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Chapter Text

ACT I - Kryptos

Chapter Text

ACT I - KRYPTOS

CHAPTER 2

The pub lights emphasized the contrast between white documents and black engravings that covered the pages. The chatter of other customers surrounded him, creating a protective bubble in which he could think in peace, isolated from the outside world. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two Shapes walking past him, to reach one of the tables behind: judging by how quickly their extremities faded into the Fog, they had to be Squares or Triangles.

"The rest of the family isn’t Triangle enough for him!"

Kryptos focused back on the documents. The words of the Equilateral chased him, repeated in his mind over and over, obsessed him. A casual thought was enough to spark them, a small flame was enough to make them burn and wipe out every reason from his mind.

"Have you been waiting long?"

He looked up: Martin had just arrived, coat in one hand and briefcase in the other. He looked cheerful, despite the evident weariness in his eye.

"I kept myself busy," Kryptos replied, pointing to his part of the table that was covered with documents. "Did the trial last long?"

"More than I would’ve liked." Martin put his briefcase on the bench, threw his coat over it and sat down with a deep, satisfied sigh. "Judge Kohlz was presiding and you know what he’s like: if he doesn’t hear what all the attorneys have to say, he doesn't make any decisions." He clasped his hands and rose them over his top. "My fingers hurt from all the typing and I can’t even lift a pen anymore. Did you order anything?"

"No, I was waiting for you." Kryptos raised a hand and saw a Shape approaching: a closer look identified him as an Equilateral.

"Your order, sir?"

"Gin." He glanced at Martin. "Same for you?"

"Whiskey’s better." He lowered his arms.

"Gin and whiskey. They’ll come right away." The Equilateral moved to the next table.

"So," Martin asked, straightforwardly, "How are things?”

"Better than before," Kryptos replied. He held up a sheet. "At least now I have a case to think about."

"The mythomaniac one?" Martin leaned forward to read. "You know you need a real case, don’t you?"

"I know, but for now I have this... oh, thank you." Kryptos moved a couple of sheets away, to make room for the bartender who was coming back with their glasses. He placed them on the table and walked away.

"To this case, then," Martin replied cheerfully, raising his glass. Kryptos did the same. "Did you talk to him yesterday? How crazy is he?”

Kryptos took a sip, put his glass down and brought his gaze back to the papers.

"I don't know yet." He rubbed over his eye. "It's... I can't explain it, but he's different from all the other clients I've had. That’s why I want to understand this case a bit more.”

He moved a couple of papers from the left to the middle of the table and turned them to face Martin.

"The father has a shop in the city center and he’s an Exchanger," he explained. "He doesn’t sell fabrics or wood, but minerals and jewels."

"So the family’s quite wealthy."

"There’s more: the eldest son opened a branch, always with the name Yipnon, in Pelsir. It’s two hundred kilometers north from here," he added, after seeing Martin's perplexed expression. "He deals with exchanges of minerals and jewels too. He’s also married to a certified Line, daughter of Squares, who gave him a Square son."

"Oh, so they’re starting to rise in the social scale," Martin remarked, a positive surprise in his voice. "Good for them. Has the Board already certified the son’s regularity?"

"Looks like it." He passed another document to Martin. "Although he’s still one year old and the Board keeps monitoring him for any regressions."

He took two more papers and showed them to Martin as well.

"The mother is certified too," Kryptos continued. "She comes from a line of Equilateral for ten generations. While the two sisters..." He took a third document. "There’s not much to say about them: one is twenty-two years old and has been engaged with a Square for almost a year, while the other is twelve years old. And the last child is a three years old Equilateral.”

"In short, a very normal family," Martin summarized.

"So it seems." Kryptos flopped on the back of his bench. "But the third child is different." His hand reached another document and he showed it to Martin. "Twenty-one years old, perfectly Equilateral. Ready to take over his father’s business. He was considered a natural tradesman, at school: great charisma, excellent grades in mathematics and geometry, even if more than once he got in trouble for "a little too confident" behavior."

"What does that mean?" Martin asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Here’s an example." Kryptos pointed to the sheet. "At the age of thirteen, during a lesson with the Specimens to train in Sight Recognition, not only he was the first to recognize it, but he introduced himself to the Specimen and asked its name."

Martin opened his eye wide.

"Really?!"

"The teacher took him immediately out of the class and the principal spoke to him, but this kind of behavior kept occurring, over the years." Kryptos hid his mouth behind a hand. "According to the headmaster, it seems he justified his actions, by blaming some "temperature changes" to influence his Configuration and made him behave that way."

Martin narrowed his eye.

"Kryptos!"

"What?"

"Do you find it funny?!"

"Just a little bit, come on.” Kryptos lowered his hand again, revealing the smile he was trying to hide from him. “He's very confident."

"That’s for sure." Martin lowered his eye to the documents. "Intelligent and smug: a dangerous combination, especially among the lower Classes."

"Instead, it seems that he has always shown respectful behavior towards high-class Shapes," Kryptos replied, leaning his elbows on the table. “Maybe because he saw them as potential customers for business, but there’s no offense record towards Polygons in the police archives."

"I hoped I sowed some doubts, at least in that stupid Circle."

Well, almost none.

"So a clean family and a spotless record, except for some... how was it saying?, "a little too confident" behavior." Martin drummed his fingers on the table. "How did he become a mythomaniac?”

"I have no idea," Kryptos admitted. "The only thing I know is what’s written here: he’s been missing for a year and, when he came back, he was mad. The school knows nothing and there are no documents at the police department.”

"What about his family?"

Kryptos lowered his gaze.

“His parents wouldn’t even see me,” he revealed, while nervously playing with the corner of a paper. "When I went to visit them, this morning, it was the maid who opened the door and she asked me to leave them in peace because they didn't want to hear anything about that anymore."

"Oh." Martin picked up his whiskey. "Yikes."

"I don't have a family."

Kryptos rubbed his eye again. He remembered the Equilateral, alone in his cell, laughing hysterically.

"I am the strange thing in my family!"

And it was true. He was a flame that burned bright and hard, he was a desert plant with blade-sharp leaves. And his eye kept looking at Kryptos, even through the walls of the penitentiary, fixed on him every time he sat down, ate, talked, thought: it was around him and in his mind.

Despite this, Kryptos still did not think the Equilateral was completely insane.

"Hey," he asked. "Do you know what three to the third power corresponds to in geometry?"

"Mh?" Martin lowered his glass and opened his eyelids. "You mean three squared."

"No, three to the third."

"Three to the third power... " Martin drummed his fingers on the table. "I don’t think it has a meaning. It's like dividing by zero."

"Yeah," Kryptos replied. He took his glass of gin. "I thought so."

The Equilateral sighed as if the answer existed. As if it was there, within hand’s reach, and Kryptos just had not been able to see it.

"I have a problem." He placed the empty glass on the table and moved the documents away from him, revealing six strips of paper hidden underneath: he pushed them toward Martin. "I have to make four identical equilateral triangles with these segments, by joining them only by their ends.”

"Are you playing with logical games for kids?" Martin joked.

"It’s more complicated than it seems."

"Hand it over." Martin took the paper strips and moved them on the table, trying to make the four triangles. He managed to make two, then two and a half. His eyebrow furrowed more and more with each failure.

"Oh damn, it seemed easy and now..." he rubbed his top, while still shifting the segments’ positions. "Where did you find this problem?"

"I ... read it in a book in my library," he lied.

"You’re right, it's way more complicated than it looks," Martin commented, his eye focused on the segments. "Are you sure there’s a solution?"

"Does it have a solution?”

“Of course it has.”

"Yes."

Martin shuffled the papers again and turned them to make the opposite ends touch: still only two triangles.

"It’s a good problem," he admitted, rubbing his eye. "I'm out of practice and very tired, so I give up for now." he pushed the paper strips back to Kryptos. “But when I’ll come this weekend, I will solve it, you’ll see."

"Will you also bring Ohixia and little Fil?"

"She went to visit her mother and took him with her." Martin raised his arms. “She also took two maids and I have only a servant left who cooks me dinner. I much prefer Lydya’s cooking."

Kryptos laughed.

"She’ll be happy to see you again."

"I hope so, I'm her favorite brother," he replied, with a wink. "And I'm looking forward to having a good time with Eddie."

"The same goes for him."

"Perfect." Martin took his coat and briefcase and dropped a couple of coins on the table. “Now excuse me, but I have to go home: I need to fix the transcripts for tomorrow's trial. It’ll be the second act of the Gelder case and it will begin at nine o'clock." he rolled his eye. “It’ll be a duel to the death."

"Try to walk out alive." Kryptos joked while gathering his documents that were scattered on the table. "I'll see you in two days."

Martin said goodbye and left quickly, still while putting his coat on. Kryptos looked back at his documents, slowly placed them inside his folder. His eye fell on the paper strips: making four equilateral triangles out of six identical segments. It did not have to be such a complicated problem. It was a Triangle who gave it to him and a Triangle could never be at the same level as a Square, no matter how brilliant he was.

And yet, the second he thought it, he knew that it was not true. That Triangle had been able to use Sight Recognition since the age of thirteen, although Equilaterals usually used the old method of feeling. He knew calculations, geometry and math. The school principal described him as "a remarkable Triangle, I had never met such a brilliant one.". He had a very high intelligence and that could also be the reason for his arrogance.

But madness? How did madness fit into that picture? What had that Triangle done, in a year, that made him change so much to call a Circle "stupid" and repeat that no one understood, because the answers were different? Answers to what? Why three to the third power? Why that problem with the segments?

Gretchen greeted him on the doorstep and helped him take off his coat. Kryptos let her do it and placed his folder with the documents on the trunk: enough thinking about the Equilateral, at least for that day. Tomorrow he would start with the problem he gave him.

He walked into the central room of the house and headed for the kitchen: Lydya was waving around the stove, wiggling her rear end. Her Peace Cry was reduced to a low murmur, just to warn maids or servants, who could have entered the kitchen, of her presence.

"Hi, honey," Kryptos greeted her.

"Darling!" Lydya turned and came to meet him, trilling with joy. Her eye shone as she reached him and tenderly caressed his side. "How was work today?"

"Long. It’s been a very long day." Kryptos sat at the table. "Is there still something for dinner?"

"Sure! But why did you come back so late?"

"I didn’t want to," he defended himself. "I met with Martin at the pub: he’ll come this weekend."

"I'll get the room ready right away!" Lydya placed a meat dish on the table and sat down next to him. "How are Ohixia and Fil? Are they good?"

“All good." Kryptos chewed and swallowed a piece of meat. "Where’s Eddie?"

"Papi!"

"Here you are!" Kryptos turned and reached out his hand: Eddie walked into the kitchen, still unstable on his little legs, and clung to his outstretched hand.

Laughing, Kryptos picked him up and put his son on his knees. Eddie swayed, chuckling, and raised his hands to feel his whole shape.

"What did you do today?" asked Kryptos. "Have you been good with mommy?"

"Good!" He replied. His voice was as thrilling as Lydya's and his pentagonal perimeter glowed white with every laugh.

Kryptos embraced his small shape with one hand, while he resumed eating with the other. Eddie's small, delicious perfection was a sight that made him stir inside every time: the five sides were regular to the millimeter, mouth and eye were in the same spot. He had taken neither his wrong inclination nor his organ defect. He was perfect.

"This little rascal did nothing but run all day!" Lydya poked Eddie with a finger, triggering soft giggles from him. "Gretchen, Eliza and I went nuts running after him. But then we put him down to read a little and now he can recognize up to the letter H."

"Haitch!" Eddie exclaimed, flapping both hands on Kryptos’ shape. He laughed again.

"Yes, that's right! Do we want to read a little bit together, this evening? Dad will show you many new letters."

"Yee!"

Lydya laughed.

"Do you want me to take him for a while, so you can eat?"

"No problem." Kryptos shifted to the side to bring a piece of meat in his mouth, away from Eddie’s reach. "I haven't seen him all day, I missed him."

Lydya giggled harder, her front end swaying sinuously. Her eye shone like all the dots of the sky and she was radiant like the first day they met.

"And I missed you too," he added.

She came over and stroked him with her eyelashes.

"I missed you too," she said, her voice the most loving trill ever. As quickly as she approached, she slipped away to wash the remaining dishes.

Kryptos finished eating and stood up, still holding Eddie in his arms.

"Let’s go to the library, young man." he turned to Lydya. "Do you want to come too?"

"Oh, yes!" Lydya quickly reached them. "I've almost finished knitting a pair of socks for Eddie. I would like to combine them with a little scarf, to keep him from getting cold this winter."

"He can’t go out yet, the Board has been clear."

"I know, but can’t he stay in the garden, at least?" she asked. " He will take some fresh air, just a tiny little bit."

Kryptos hesitated. The members of the Board had been clear: no contact with other Shapes, except family members and house servants. The child was still fragile and he could undergo some changes to his Configuration. But the garden had high hedges and a fence that hid the view from the outside: it was difficult that, sheltered back there, he would meet someone else.

"Fine, but just two minutes a day," he agreed. "Not one more. And hold him in your arms.”

"I'll do it!" Lydya stroked his side again with her eyelashes. Her whole shape was vibrating with joy. “Thank you, darling!"

His colleagues always said he should not have been so permissive with his wife. Women were like this: give them an inch and they will take a mile. Way better to be strict and inflexible, so they would know their place.

But every time he thought about that, he also remembered his last client, a Line accused of multiple homicides. According to the charge, one day she wiped out her whole family, went down the street and started to break all Shapes around, with no reason whatsoever. But when Kryptos spoke to her, asking the reason for her actions, it came out there was one. Between desperate sobs, she confessed her husband was a very strict Shape, that never granted her anything. So when her umpteenth request got denied, frustration and anger took over, she finally snapped and, overcome with fury, she carried out a massacre.

Kryptos turned to look at Lydya, at her bright eye and her hypnotic sway as she moved toward her favorite sewing chair. She looked like the most naive and harmless creature in the world, but she was also endowed with deadly edges she always had to wiggle, to avoid spearing someone by mistake. Maybe Lydya was too peaceful to let anger overcome her, as it had happened to his client, but always better to be safe than sorry: after all, meeting her demands and reaching a compromise did not mean allowing her to do everything. He was still the head of the family.

Besides, she was so charming. How could he say “no” to that eye?

Someone is still in the honeymoon phase, Martin would have said, laughing. And, who knows, maybe he was right.

The sofa was occupied by two children's books. Kryptos sat down and, with Eddie on his knees, took the nearest one. He opened it between them and led the fleeting attention of his son to the pages. Eddie blinked, chuckled and looked back at him, bringing his hands back to his shape to feel it.

"We’ll play later." Kryptos tapped him under the eye, a gesture that made him laugh. "First, let’s read together, shall we?"

"Haitch!"

"Exactly, let's start from there." Kryptos drew his attention to the book, pointing to the next letter. Eddie's little hands tapped the pages, one grabbed his finger with a chuckle. He was still so tiny, but his eye was wide and his round pupil was as expressive as his mother's. He would become a great doctor.

"He would have been a great tradesman."

The thought of the Equilateral lingered in his mind, it cast a shadow over the bright evening. Kryptos blinked, dispersed that thought, and turned his attention back to his son. He would have thought about the Equilateral the day after. For one evening, he could have waited.

Chapter Text

ACT I - KRYPTOS

CHAPTER 3

No textbook presented the six segments problem. There were dozens of different problems with segments in his scholastic geometry book, but none of them was even close to the problem the Equilateral gave him. On the other hand, advanced geometry books proposed only problems with formulas and unknown numbers and not even a single mention of segments.

Kryptos lowered the umpteenth manual and sighed. The six strips of paper were arranged in front of him, six vertical white lines that stood out against the gray parquet of the library.

He left the book on the pile beside him and leaned his back against the edge of the sofa. The books made a semicircle around him: some were open to the pages with the most similar problems, others were closed and left on the side. There was only one problem similar enough, a problem that asked to make five triangles out of nine segments, a trick he remembered having solved several times as a child. There was also the other problem, that asked to make five squares with six segments: both problems were based on tricks of perception, created to refine lateral thinking. They played on the fact that triangles and squares were not of the same size: that way, it was easy to create a larger triangle, insert a smaller one upside down and made all the necessary triangles. Or make a larger square, insert a cross inside and divide it into four, smaller squares.

"You have six equal segments, with the same length and width. Make four identical equilateral triangles, by joining them only by their ends.”

It was not a game of perception. Triangles had to be all the same and segments could only be joined by their ends. It was an impossible game.

"Does it have a solution?”

“Of course it has.”

Maybe it was just stupid to think so much about it. Maybe Judge Beckenrohe's report was right, and his client was just a mythomaniac who talked nonsense. Maybe Kryptos was the real idiot, looking for the solution to an impossible problem, just because he thought his client seemed sane.

If he was sane, why would the Circles put him in jail?

He blinked, dispelling that ridiculous thought. The problem was still before him, unsolvable. Perhaps Martin would be able to help him on the weekend.

The day after tomorrow.

Kryptos looked down at the paper strips. He could always go back to the penitentiary, instead of wasting time at home and asking for a clue from the Equilateral. If that problem could really be solved, he could give Kryptos some help. A little push in the right direction. Not to mention that Kryptos was still his court-appointed attorney and it was his duty to visit the accused anyway.

The haughty and aloof gaze of the Triangle reappeared before his eye and Kryptos frowned. Actually, he was ashamed to go back and ask for help. His client had given him that problem to test him: what kind of attorney would he prove himself to be, if he came back to ask for help? An attorney unable to solve a problem, here is what. And, if he could not solve a geometry problem, how could he be able to defend a Shape?

No, he would solve the problem and show his client that he was intelligent, reliable and ready to defend him in court with all his strength, whether he lost the case or not.

Animated by new energies, he stood up and ran to the entrance.

"Sir?" Gretchen called him.

"I'll be right back," he replied to the maid, as he put his coat on and took the keys. “I have to go to the library to get more books.”

"I can’t believe it! I’m being beaten by such an elementary problem!”

"I told you." Kryptos brought the glass to his mouth, to hide his smile. "This isn’t an easy problem."

Martin planted the elbows on his crossed legs and focused his attention back on the paper strips. Kryptos relaxed against the edge of the sofa and stretched his legs out in front of him. He was full from Lydya and Gretchen's delicious lunch and whiskey has made the library warmer and softer than usual. Eddie was crawling on the floor, muttering childish mumbles and repeating the letters he already learned. He stepped over his outstretched legs and headed for Martin.

"Don’t disturb your uncle, Eddie." Kryptos caught him and squeezed the small Pentagon against his shape. "He’s very busy with a problem."

“I’m pretty sure that, if Eddie comes here, he will solve it before me." Martin laughed, while still moving the strips on the floor. "How could this problem be so difficult? Are you really sure there’s a solution?"

"Of course it has."

"Yes."

"I think your dad’s making fun of me." Martin raised his gaze from the paper and held out his hands: Kryptos left Eddie and the child crawled up to his uncle, who lifted him. "Who's my favorite nephew? Who is he?"

"Me!"

"Yes, it’s you!" Martin laughed while putting him back down. "You and Fil will be two amazing doctors when you’ll grow up.” He tickled Eddie in the middle of his small shape and his nephew let out his small, delicious, thrilling laugh. "And their children will be Hexagons." He raised the eye to meet Kryptos’ gaze. "Members of the Aristocracy."

"I hope we'll still be alive to see them," Kryptos held out his glass.

"I hope that too." Martin raised his glass in a toast and they drank together. Eddie was quiet, too busy playing with the paper strips.

"You know what?" Martin said.

"What? That Fil could become Eddie's assistant when he’ll be a successful doctor?" Kryptos teased him.

"You wish," Martin chuckled, waving his glass: the whiskey swayed inside. "I was talking about this problem." a glance towards the paper strips. "I think I figured it out."

Kryptos lowered his glass and leaned forward.

"You solved it?"

Martin lifted a finger to eye level.

"Lateral thinking," he declared. "You don't have to use a known formula or rely on your knowledge. I bet the solution is in a formula or a little-known theory, hidden at the bottom of some books. You know about those corollaries, that are almost always ignored? I'm sure one of those will lead to the solution."

Kryptos straightened and blinked. Lateral thinking. Searching a little-known formula. It was quite possible: he found nothing by looking in common manuals, so the solution had to be in some particular book. A little-known one.

"I think you're right." He turned to look at him. "Martin, you're a genius."

Martin's eye bent into a satisfied smile.

"It was nothing, just a small intuition,” he replied.

"You should’ve been a lawyer."

"And deal with boring clients or find someone as Crewen as opposing counsel? No, thank you." He waved his glass again. "He turned the last trial into an apology about how much he’s the best attorney of the last ten years." Martin rolled his eye. "He was so repetitive, after a while I stopped typing and no one noticed those parts were missing when I reread the acts.”

"You would be a better lawyer than Crewen."

"You already are, so what are we talking about?" Martin tapped his glass against Kryptos’. "You just need a chance to prove it."

"Oh, come on." It was Kryptos’ turn to roll his eye. "Crewen never lost a case and everyone loves him."

"It’s easy to accept simple cases and win them, anybody can do it," Martin replied. “The difficult thing is accepting a case you cannot win and still find something to use, every small piece of evidence that can change the sentence, even the slightest. That, Crewen would never know how to do it." Martin leaned forward. "Do you remember the case of the killer Line, don’t you? They wanted an execution, by shattering her: but, thanks to you, the judge decided on a life sentence and she’s still alive in prison. And what about that Irregular? Instead of shattering him, you managed to get him sent to the psychiatric hospital. You saved them both."

"Yes, I guess it’s true," Kryptos agreed. "But... you know, it never seems enough for me. I always think I could gain more. I could... I don't know, get them out, maybe. Keeping them under surveillance, of course, but maybe... maybe free.”

"Hey now, slow down. You’re a great lawyer, but you can't be a doctor too." Martin laughed. "You couldn't perform surgery on the Line to make her ends less dangerous, nor re-shape the Irregular to make his sides equal. Lines are Lines and Irregulars... well, yours is still in the hospital, as far as I know, so at least he’s receiving some medical care. In any case, I don’t think he’s having a bad time.”

"I’ve no idea," Kryptos admitted. "I never saw him again, after the case."

"He'll be fine," Martin replied, raising his glass. "At least, he's still alive. Better than being dead."

"You’re right," Kryptos agreed and they drank again.

An unknown formula, a very specific corollary, a little-known theory. Books were all over the ground and around him, the library shelves emptied little by little. Kryptos rubbed his eye: since he did not know exactly what he was looking for, he was reading everything. But reading everything meant being slower. How long would take him to find the solution? How many books he still had to search? Was the solution hidden in one of his books, or did he have to check every single book in the central library?

Kryptos blinked several times, trying to disperse that thought and focused his attention back on the book he was holding. It was one of his manuals from school, opened at the pages that explained the area and perimeter of Equilateral Triangles. Those were all information he already knew, no corollary was bringing him closer to the solution of the six segments problem.

Lateral thinking. Think laterally. He could not make the four triangles in a common way or by using the usual geometric formulas. He could not bend the segments nor break them. They could only touch by their ends. Was there any feature of the Shapes’ ends he did not know about?

"Darling, do you want some tea?"

Lydya's voice reached him from the other side of the library. Even without seeing her, he could picture her figure swaying in the doorway, looking at him with her bright eye.

"I’d love some, thank you," he replied.

"It’s coming!" She trilled. He heard her going away, her Peace Cry that became lower and lower. He could see his wife walking into the kitchen, reaching the stove, taking the tea leaves and putting them in infusion. Maybe Eliza would walk into the kitchen with Eddie and he would stretch his arms towards his mom. He was still too young to use Sight Recognition, but he could already recognize his mother from the maids. According to the doctor, he recognizes her brightness.

Kryptos turned the page. Funny, he had no idea children could do it. He did not remember having done something similar when he was little. For him, brightness had always been the same for all Shapes: it was just here, it did not allow him to distinguish his mother from his father. But maybe it was because of his appearance...

Wait.

He quickly flipped through pages, until he came back to the beginning of the book, his eye searched through the first sentences.

“Shapes have many features, but three are the most important: breadth, length and brightness. But while the third one is measurable only with the eye and the art of Recognition, the first two features can be calculated by concrete formulas, which will be used in this volume".

Kryptos tossed the book to the ground and took a different one, a book about history. He turned the pages until he reached the chapter he was looking for.

"The Art of Sight Recognition has been developed over the centuries, by taking advantage of the eye’s innate ability to recognize a Shape by the variation of its brightness. This feature is inherent in each Shape and corresponds to a microscopic thickness of light that determines a Shape’s existence. Without brightness, there would not be any Lines, Triangles, or Polygons."

The book slipped from his hands and fell to the ground. Kryptos turned his back to the bookcase, fell to his knees and started to move the paper strips, his brow furrowed by the effort of concentration. He could feel the gears fit together, the pieces coming together, little by little, the book’s words that acted as a lubricant.

Kryptos jumped up and ran out of the library. Dom was in the hall, sweeping the floor.

"Sir," he greeted him, "Are you leaving?"

"I have to." Kryptos grabbed his coat and half-tucked in. "See you later."

"Darling!" Lydya called him, from the corridor. "What about the tea...?”

“I'll drink it when I get back, now I have to go.” Kryptos came back to her, stroked her side with one hand and, with the other, he grabbed the folder with the documents related to the Equilateral. With his coat still half-tucked in, he turned around, stormed out the door that Dom had opened for him and ran to the penitentiary.

The cell numbers flew in front of him, as fast as the thoughts that were flowing through his mind and the sound of his steps on the floor. Kryptos reached the door of cell 618 and turned back: the guard who escorted him was way behind and kept walking without hurry, slowly approaching him.

Kryptos tapped his foot, impatiently. The guard ignored him and, still very calmly, removed the bunch of keys from his belt and started to scroll them, one by one.

He wanted to scream. How much time did it take to find a damn key? If he had taken them from the guard’s hand and searched by himself, it would have taken him three seconds to find the right one.

Finally, the guard found the cell’s key, put it into the lock and opened the door. Before he could even try to throw a glance inside, Kryptos anticipated him and slipped into the cell.

Lelx Yipnon was waiting for him, seated on the bed like the first time they met, with one arm resting on the knee and the other leg dangling. His brilliant, arrogant and intense eye focused on Kryptos as soon as he saw him enter.

The door closed behind him and Kryptos threw out his answer in one breath.

"The solution is in the brightness."

The Equilateral looked at him in silence.

"I don't know how," Kryptos continued, dropping the folder on the floor. "I don't know what this solution brings to. I don't know what it creates. But I know brightness is involved."

Silence fell between them, spread around his words. Kryptos held the Triangle's gaze, his hands closed in two fists. That was the solution, he was sure of it. It could not be anything else.

Lelx Yipnon lowered his eyelids, lifted them and bent his eye into a sharp smile. Then, he raised one hand and indicated the other side of the bed, inviting him to sit down for the first time.

Kryptos’ gaze went from him to his hand, to the bed. Slowly, he approached and sat down.

"If you want to listen, attorney," Lelx said, "I'll tell you everything."

END OF CHAPTER 3

END OF ACT I - KRYPTOS

Chapter Text

ACT II - RÌEM

CHAPTER 4

His father's grip around the wrist was strong enough to keep him from sneaking out, but not too tight to hurt. It was hilarious: even when he was angry, his father’s first thought was to not hurt his children, in order not to compromise his climb up the social scale.

His father slammed the door open, pushed him inside the bedroom and stood in front of him, with crossed arms and a stern look in his eye.

"Lelx."

"Dad," he replied, ironically.

"This is no time for joking," his father’s tone was stern. "What did I tell you?"

"I don't know what happened to me." Lelx lifted a hand to his eye and placed the back of the other on his top, a melodramatic gesture of excessive frailty. “It must be this sudden heat: it widened my Perimeter and the whole Configuration was affected. I really need to relax in the cool air of the store for a while, to feel better.”

His father kept looking at him, frowning.

"You can't leave a date whenever you’re bored," he said. "That’s not how it works."

"Oh, I certainly can!" Lelx replied. "Or do you want my Configuration to be affected?"

"Karella comes from a family of Squares, who have been regular for fifty-two generations."

"And she's a total idiot," Lelx concluded, crossing his arms, just like his father. "She didn't even know how to calculate the area of a Square! What should we’ve talked about?"

His father sighed. Here it is, one of his umpteenth, irritating sighs. As if he were the idiot.

"You can't talk about geometry with Women, Lelx, I already told you."

"Urgh, what should we talk about, then?" He snapped. "Sewing? Cooking? Cleaning? If you find me only stupid Women, of course I leave, when they don't know how to answer me!"

His father sighed again and loosened his crossed arms. He put his fingers together, trying to find the right words.

"Women are not as smart as we are,” he said, “And they cannot evolve: once a Woman, always a Woman." He intertwined his fingers. "You should meet them halfway: you should talk about "love" and "duty". You should tell them your "hopes", talk about your "dreams" and listen to them. You must make them feel "special"."

"I can't make an ignorant feel special."

"Nor can you call her idiot and walk away," his father replied. "You're an adult now: you're twenty, you must find a wife."

"And why do I have to do all these things, while my sisters don’t?"

"I just told you: they’re Women, it’s different," his father answered. "You’re Equilateral and you must find a wife."

"And why should I?"

"Because it’s the task of every Equilateral: to get married and climb the social ladder, ascending to the Square’s class."

Here it was again, his father’s favorite theme. Lelx smiled: maybe he could have some fun.

"And why do I have to?"

"Because by rising in the social scale, with each generation, one day among your heirs there will be the future Head Circle."

"Why?"

"Because it’s the law of Nature: every child has one more side than the father," he answered, impatiently. "You know it."

"But why?"

"Because it’s a law of Nature and these are the laws."

"Why?"

"Because that's the way it is." His father pointed a finger at him. "And stop with the whys. They were acceptable when you were a small Triangle, but now you’re an adult and it’s not your job to ask all these questions."

"Why?"

His father gave him a dirty look.

"I’ve set another date for you tomorrow," he said, instead. “Either you properly behave, or you won't come to the shop anymore."

“Oh, dad, how can you do this to me?" he replied, lifting a hand over his eye again, with way too much emphasis. "You’re hurting my feelings."

"Stop talking like a Woman."

"But isn't that what you wanted?" he replied, amused. "That I talked about feelings and love? Well, then you need to know that I love being a merchant..."

His father rolled his eye.

"I love coming to the shop..."

His father huffed.

"And, if you won't let me come with you, you’ll make me suffer." He pressed both hands on the center of his shape. “And if you want me to stop," he added, in a more candid tone, "Let me come this afternoon."

His father crossed his arms.

"Absolutely not."

"But Delaw is coming!" He complained, letting his arms fall back. "With a glow point! It's worth hundreds of coins if it's as big as he said!" he joined his hands. "Let me come, let me negotiate! I'll get you that glow point for less than fifty coins!"

"You can't always have your way, Lelx."

"And you don't care about how my Configuration could be affected by that?"

"Your Configuration will be fine, while you think in your room.” His father opened the door. "I have to go. See you this evening."

"Come on, dad!" He complained again. "Do you really think that you’ll get anything useful from locking me up here?"

"Maybe not," his father admitted, "But it’ll have some sort of positive influence on you." He turned to look at him. “Tomorrow morning. Her name’s Syfel and she comes from a family of Equilateral Triangles, who have been regular for sixty generations. Think about what to say to her. You’re a great merchant, so finding the right words shouldn't be a problem for you.”

And, with that last warning, he went out and locked the door of his room.

Lelx let his arms fall to the sides and huffed while rolling his eye. Great, another boring date was set up for him. Couldn't his father just teach him the job? Did he really have to do that stupid social climbing? He would have remained in the Triangular class anyway, Square son or not, so what did it matter? And his children did not even exist, so he cared even less about them.

He chuckled, imagining his father’s shocked expression, if he had told him that. Actually, he should have done it: that would have been so fun! He could already see him stuttering in anger, looking for the right words not to offend him, while he asked his father why it was so important to think about his children and grandchildren: was not the first rule of a good merchant to pursue its interests and not others? He would have confused him so much, that his father would have given up after two "why?". It would have been hilarious.

He approached the desk, where it was the list of Women his father had given him. They were all indicated with a number and two sentences about their family tree and their regularity, up to the most distant generation. He flipped through the first page: nothing but names and families. That was so dumb, there was not even a mention of the educational level! Apparently, the most important thing for his father was kinship. Introducing Women that were complete, absolute idiots was fine, as long as, among their ancestors, there was a great regularity or even a Square. Urgh.

He remembered the Line from that morning. She looked just like all the others, with the same brightness, same eyelashes, same downcast eye and same back swaying in the same way. He had asked what her favorite subject was: a simple question, just to break the ice. But instead, she had started to shake, lowered her eye and had not answered. So he had tried again, with even simpler questions, just to make her say some damn thing. He even lowered himself to ask her about the measure of the angle of an Equilateral Triangle! Someone like, oh well, him, the Shape she was supposed to marry! Nothing: she had not uttered a single word and had kept shaking more and more violently.

After that, it was obvious he would have left! They had not talked about anything, she had just kept shaking the whole time! Why should he have stayed? To talk about love? To please his father and his obsession with social climbing? Well, his father should have to rely on his sisters. And Lelx was not the only son, there were still other two! One of them would have given him the Square nephew he wanted so much.

“They're Women, it’s different.”

He pouted. "They’re Women", what a poor excuse. He knew the truth: his sisters were just luckier than him. They were closer to their mother and she had never been too strict. I bet she doesn’t force them to attend hundreds of boring dates with dumb Squares. Surely they were playing, reading, sewing... or whatever they liked to do.

He put away the Women’s list and stretched his arm to take one of his geometry books from the shelf. At least his bravado had prevented him from attending other stupid dates, at least for that day. And now, just like his sisters, he could devote himself to something he liked.

Of course, he could have done something a lot funnier, if only his father had not been so boring. He squeezed the volume tightly between his fingers, imagining the smug expression of Delaw. That sucker. Last time, Lelx sold him a brooch for forty coins, while they had bought it for five. His father had looked at him with adoration. He was the best merchant and he knew damn well.

But now, because of his stupid stubbornness, his father had left him at home, instead of letting him make a great deal! Glow points were extremely rare and if Delaw truly had one as big as a finger, it was worth thousands of coins! But Delaw had no idea how worth it was, he was just a moron, easy prey to compliments: Lelx had just to tell him how regular he was, how perfect his sides were and how honored he was to do business with such a high-class Hexagon like him and Delaw would have sold him his own house for ten coins.

And my father doesn't let me make the deal, because of a stupid date!

Anger rose inside him. Curse the stupid dates and all the bloody rules! If his father had not been so obsessed with that idiocy of social climbing, he would not have been locked up in his room!

Lelx squeezed the book tighter and threw it against the opposite wall.

"Ouch!"

The book had not hit the wall, but it had struck someone else. Someone who had appeared from nowhere into his room and had let out that surprised yell.

Lelx stepped back until he reached the wall on the other side of the room. He glanced at the door: it was still locked. Yet the stranger was in front of him, popped out of nowhere without him even noticing. According to his view, the extremities of the figure gradually faded into the Fog: a Woman had no ends that faded in that way and it could not have been a Triangle like him, because its ends would have vanished in the Fog much faster.

It had to be someone with more sides, but who? A Hexagon? A Heptagon? An even higher-class Polygon? And how had it got into his room?

"Oh, hey," the stranger said, "Hello. Sorry, didn’t want to scare you.” He picked up the book and handed it to him. "It’s my fault: I showed up too suddenly, without announcing myself."

His tone was young, with a cheerful and lively inflection of his voice. Lelx approached and took the book.

"Is that something you do often?" he asked, ironically.

"Actually no." The stranger laughed. "Believe me or not, I ended up here by accident. Sorry if I disturbed you."

Lelx shrugged.

"I was just thinking that I can't go out. Nothing I can't do later."

"Why can't you go out?"

"Because I'm a dangerous guy," he answered. "I have a sense of humor. I know, I know, it's horrible. Boring people run away from me and they’re afraid to invoke my name, because they fear I can tell a funny joke. They called the Boredom Police to lock me up here and it was a hard fight, believe me.”

The stranger laughed again, heartily.

"You’re funny.” He leaned against the corner of the wall. "For which joke did they put you here?"

"It wasn't a joke," he replied, amused. "I said I was a magnet for people and that no prison would isolate me and, ta-dah!, I was right."

Another laugh.

"You’re not like the others."

"Of my family?" Lelx rolled his eye. "Yeah duh, my father is an agent of the Boredom Police and my mother is his echo, because she repeats everything he says."

"I mean in general," the stranger replied. "Compared to other Shapes. I come from far away and all those I've seen so far are very serious folks.”

"You should’ve come to me right away." Lelx shrugged. "I’d been your tour guide: the way it works here is that the most boring you are, the better. If you want to do something funny you can't, because the Boredom Police will come and preach to you. On the other hand, since everyone is so predictable, tricking them becomes child's play and, if you want to make a deal, you can do it."

"But, this time, it seems that you failed to trick the Boredom Police," the stranger joked.

"I’m just a little tired," he answered, waving a hand as if to disperse those words. "I’m back from a long meeting with a Line, an idiot like few others. The Boredom Police took me by surprise.”

"Were you making business?"

"Nah." Lelx rolled his eye. "It was all my father’s idea. He’s obsessed with social climbing. He thinks that, if he has a grandson Square, then he would become one too."

"And would you like to become a Square?"

"Are you kidding me? I like my shape." He put his hands on the sides. "I like being Equilateral. Squares are all lawyers or jurists! I like to be a merchant.”

"Do you like it?" the stranger asked, interested. In his voice, there was a surprised inflection.

"Yes," Lelx raised his arms, amused. “I bet you haven't heard many Shapes talking about things they like."

"None, to tell the truth."

"I already told you I'm funny, haven’t I?" He replied. "Other Shapes are afraid to use the terms of Women.”

"Of Women?"

"You know, all those words about love and feelings," he explained. "My father thinks I’m using them just to annoy him, but I like them. They’re words and all words are useful for making a point." He chuckled. "Although sometimes I do it on purpose - to talk like a Woman, I mean - just to see him react funnily. Once I used those words at school and the teacher took me to the principal, who gave me this endless lecture about how it wasn't good for me to use that kind of language and so on."

The stranger laughed.

"You don’t care very much about rules, mh?"

"Rules exist for someone to break them," Lelx replied. "If nobody does it, someone has to start."

"Someone like you?"

"I'm a funny guy: how can you have fun, if you don't do something out of the ordinary?"

"And what do you do for fun?"

"Oh, in general, I exasperate those around me," he answered, "Like when I talk about Polygon customers, calling them suckers. My father always reproaches me, because "it isn’t proper to call ‘sucker’ a member of the Aristocracy", not even when they’re stupid enough to buy twice the price or sell at the half. There was also that time I agreed with the wife of a Pentagon, who wanted to know more about her husband's work: hey, if she wanted to learn more, better for her! But my father replied that "these are not issues a Woman should be interested in". In short, there are so many stupid rules, that any little thing is enough to break dozens of them.”

"You really don't like the rules."

"It's not that I don't like them," Lelx replied. "I don't understand why. Why are they like that? Why these are the rules and not others? Why are they called "rules"? Why can't they be changed? My father has never been able to explain it to me.”

"Is there any rule you accept as it is?"

"Geometry rules." Lelx raised his arms. "Although, when I solve a problem, I always try to find an alternative solution." He glanced toward the book. "But all problems follow already established patterns and you’re forced to use the same formula over and over."

"That’s why those are rules," the stranger joked. "To test them. And, if they can't solve problems anymore, they expire and stop being rules."

"It would be awesome to find a problem that makes one rule expire," Lelx replied. "I would rub it in my father’s eye. I would show him that even his precious rules can fail."

"So you like problems."

"Who doesn't?"

"And you’re good at solving them?"

"Try me," he challenged the other Shape.

The stranger seemed to think about it. Lelx waited, his whole shape trembling with excitement. He was locked in his room, with a stranger who had entered by magic, talking about rules and geometry problems. If his father had seen him, he would have fainted on the threshold.

"I have it," the stranger declared, with a cheerful tone. "You have six equal segments, with the same length and width. Make four identical equilateral triangles, by joining them only by their ends."

Lelx lifted a hand to his eye and frowned.

"I never heard of this problem before."

"I thought so," the stranger replied. "Do you want to try to solve it?"

A problem with segments, elementary geometry stuff. It would take him a couple of minutes.

Lelx took a sheet from the desk, split it into six segments and sat down cross-legged on the floor. On the other hand, the unknown Shape moved to sit on his bed.

"I'm making myself comfortable." he justified himself. There was still an amused tone in his voice. "It will take quite a while."

"Don't underestimate me, just because I'm a Triangle," Lelx replied, narrowing his eye in a sharp smile. “The last one who did it, paid fifty coins a watch worth ten.”

The stranger laughed again: a wide, jovial laugh.

"You’re not bad at all," he said. "But no, I'm not underestimating you for your Shape. I just know how difficult this problem is."

"This problem? With segments?" he replied, ironically, putting his attention on the last word.

"Don’t underestimate it," the stranger replied. "This problem’s not what it seems, either."

"Fair enough,” Lelx admitted. He looked down at the strips of paper and focused his attention on the problem. Six equal segments, joined by their ends make four equilateral triangles. How hard would it have been?

A lot. A whole lot.

Lelx joined the segments by the ends, he managed to make three triangles... but there were not enough paper strips to make the fourth. He dispersed them with his hand and tried a different approach. He turned the triangles upside down and tried to cheat, by folding a segment in half.

"No cheating," the stranger retorted. "They must be identical."

Lelx looked up at him skeptically.

"Has this problem a solution?"

"Of course it has."

He was serious, with no mocking tone in his voice. There was a solution and the stranger knew what it was. He was patiently waiting for Lelx to find it.

Think.

He tried to move the segments again, to join them by the sides: he managed to get two triangles and an open one. He tried again, stubbornly. The stranger sat in silence, patiently observing his attempts, without intervening.

It would have taken longer than expected.

Lelx lay down, stood up, rubbed his eye until he saw small bright spots. He took the math manual, consulted it, and threw it away.

He glanced at the stranger: he still sat on his bed, he kept following his attempts, patient and silent, without giving help nor commenting.

He had to be close. It was such a simple problem, so elementary in its formulation, how could it be so difficult to solve?

It's not what it seems.

It was a different, new problem that required lateral thinking. He did not have to use known formulas or think as usual. Lateral thinking. A different formula. A new perspective.

He scattered the segments on the floor and brought only three of them together, joining them to form an equilateral triangle. He stood up and walked around it, looking at one side at a time, stopping at every angle, following with his eye every line that made it, every detail of the surface, the thickness of each fragment...

"Brightness!"

His scream was so sudden that the stranger jumped. Lelx stood before him, exalted.

"Brightness!" he repeated, "The answer is brightness!"

"Excuse me?"

Lelx raised the triangle formed by three segments.

"If I extend into brightness, I'm sure I can do it!" he declared. "I have to extend into brightness to create four triangles!"

The stranger remained still, his breath suspended. Lelx was panting while holding the triangle up as if it were a trophy.

And then, the stranger laughed.

"I think I found the right guy."

Lelx dropped the triangle made of segments and took a step toward the stranger. His mind was spinning.

"Who are you?"

"It was about time you asked," the unknown Shape joked. "I am a messenger, who came here to look for an apostle to spread the Truth I’m carrying. If you accept to listen to me, I will talk to you about the Gospel of the Three Dimensions and I will explain what it really is the thing you call "brightness"."

Lelx’ eye widened.

"Three Dimensions?"

"Exactly," the stranger confirmed. "You only know breadth and length, but there’s a third Dimension, which you see without realizing it. You call it "brightness", but its real name is "height"."

"Height."

"Yes. And it’s infinitesimal, so your species is never aware of it. When you look at me, what do you see?"

"From here? A... a shiny, straight line, with the ends fading into the Fog."

"If you didn't see the brightness, would I still be here?"

"Well, no," Lelx replied, "You wouldn't exist."

"Therefore, brightness - or height, as everybody calls it - serves the same purpose of length and breadth: to determine the existence of a figure in space," the stranger explained. "Even if your height is infinitesimal, it exists and allows you to exist in your two-dimensional space."

"So height... is light? And how do you measure it?"

"It’s not light," he answered. "It extends, just like the other two Dimensions."

"But how?"

"You can't see it from your plane, but height extends above and below.”

"Above and below what?"

"Above your dimensional plane."

Lelx rubbed under his eye.

"You mean... northward?"

"Above," the stranger repeated. "Look at a paper strip. Imagine it's your whole world. Height - and Third Dimension - extend all around, above and below the strip."

"And why can't I see it?"

"Because you’re stuck in your dimensional plane."

"And you can see it?"

"Sure. I'm in it right now."

"But you’re also here."

"Because I have three Dimensions," the stranger replied as if it were obvious. "At the moment, you see only one section of me, the one that cut through your Dimension. The rest of me is outside, in the Third Dimension."

"Do you have three dimensions?" Lelx raised a hand. "Can I touch you?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Lelx reached out with a trembling hand. He took a step forward and put his fingertips on the stranger.

A touch was enough to make him shiver from top to base. He was used to feeling the ends of the Equilateral, the right angles of the Squares, the harmless ends of Pentagons and Hexagons. In every Shape, even in the most perfect Polygon, he would have always felt the very slight protrusions of angles.

But that stranger, who had appeared by magic in his room, talking about a Third Dimension that extended out of his world, had no angles. Lelx’ sensitive fingertips did not even notice the slightest trace of a tip, not even the most infinitesimal. Astonished, he walked the entire perimeter of the stranger, without ever taking his hand away and never feeling the touch of an angle.

He was touching the most perfect Circle he had ever seen.

"Who are you?" Lelx repeated, breathless.

"I am a Circle, made by several Circles one placed on the top of the other. In the Third Dimension, my shape is called Sphere and my name is Rìem."

A Sphere. A Circle made of multiple Circles. He still felt its perfect roundness on his fingers: nobody, not even the Chief Circle itself could have had such a perfect perimeter. Not to mention he had appeared in his room out of nowhere and had proposed him an impossible problem. The fact that he came from a Third Dimension outside his world became almost plausible.

"Nice to meet you." He held out his hand. "I am an Equilateral and my name is Lelx."

Rìem laughed and shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you too, Lelx."

Even his hand was strange: it was like a hand section. It was like holding a hand with the palm up. Lelx took a deep breath and exhaled, little by little.

"Woah," he commented, still dazed, " You really come from another Dimension. That, or you're the weirdest Circle I've ever seen," he added.

Rìem laughed again, heartily.

"I was lucky to find you," he said, "The last Shape I spoke with told me I was a thief, who came to steal from his house and destroy his sanity. Then he tried to stab me."

"Yeeesh." Lelx rearranged his bow tie. "Uhm, sorry for that. Do you want... can I offer you anything?"

"Don't worry," Rìem laughed. "Your curiosity is more than refreshing. I hoped there was still some Shape open-minded enough to accept the Gospel of the Three Dimensions. I’ve been looking for years, but no one had enough brain to understand. Except you.”

"I told you: I'm special." Lelx made him sit down on his bed and sat cross-legged on the ground in front of him. "Come on, tell me. I want to know everything about this Third Dimension."

"What do you want me to start with?"

"Uhmm... light!" he exclaimed. "Do you know where it comes from?"

"Of course: it comes from a great Sphere that revolves around our world. Can you see the stars from your world?"

“You mean the white dots in the sky?”

"They’re not small dots, quite the opposite! Stars are huge spheres that emit light: some emit more, others less.”

"So why do we see them as small dots from here?”

"Because they’re millions and billions of light years away," he answered. "Distance made them look small. If they were as close as our star, they could be even thousands of times bigger and their brightness millions of times more intense.”

"And how do they emit light?"

"Because of some chemical processes that take place in their cores," he explained. "Those processes light stars up, like giant fires that feed on themselves."

Lelx's eye was shining, his shape was trembling with excitement. Answers! Rìem had an answer to all his questions!

I want to know more.

"How do they feed on themselves?" He asked. "What chemical processes take place inside them? You said they revolve around us, but how do they do it? And... and how big are they? How do you measure them? How can they be so distant? How many are they, have you counted them? And what do you call them? Do they have names?"

"Easy, easy!" Rìem laughed again. "You have so many questions! A whole life won’t be enough to answer them all!"

"But I want to know!" Lelx insisted. "I even solved your impossible problem! Don't you think I deserve a prize?"

"A prize?" the Sphere seemed to consider it. "Let's see... what would you like?"

"Mmmh... I want to see something from the Third Dimension!" he exclaimed. “Is that possible?"

"In theory, even though I never tried... let me check." and Rìem shrank, his eye and hand sections disappeared, slipping out of existence. Lelx widened his eye so much it almost fell out of his socket.

As easily as he disappeared, Rìem reappeared, with his hand and eye section, slipping back into the room with the same fluidity.

"Oh my Circles, that’s the most incredible thing I've ever seen," Lelx muttered, with veneration.

"All right, I think I can do it," Rìem said. "So I ask you: instead of just seeing it, would you like to visit the Third Dimension?"

Lelx jumped to his feet.

"Can I visit it?!" his tone was ecstatic.

"Of course!" Rìem confirmed. "You can stay at my place. We should make some proper arrangements, but I don't think we’ll have too many problems. This way, I will have enough time to answer all your questions." he laughed again, "Or, most of them, at least.”

"Do it!" Lelx encouraged him. "Do it! Take me to the Third Dimension!"

"Wouldn't you like to talk to your parents first?"

"Do I look like someone, who still needs permission from mom and dad?" Lelx grabbed a part of Rìem's arm. "Show me everything."

The Sphere laughed again.

"Fine," he agreed. "I'll take you out of the Plane. I suggest you close your eye: it won’t be very pleasant.”

Lelx shut his eye tight, quivering with expectation.

And he felt like being torn.

It was unlike anything he ever felt before, the pain of a shattering was not even comparable. He felt like he was being torn in half, along the line of his brightness, his back left behind while his front surface was propelled upwards at tremendous speed, breaking layers of veils that held him back to life. His breath shattered, his inside swirled, he felt himself turning from inside out, he wanted to scream...

"You can look now."

Lelx reopened his eye and it was like being born again.

He was floating in a huge light gray space, without light or stars, that curved to infinity. And, in front of him, there was the Sphere.

He was twice his size and of a shade of white he had never seen. A tone that was other, that filled his sight and made his eye water.

"This is blue," he explained while bringing a hand to his perfect circularity, "It’s the color of the sky in the Third Dimension."

Rìem had two eyes, both half-closed in a friendly expression, and two black hands, identical to Lelx’, which supported him by the arms.

Lelx looked down and, beneath him, he saw a very long segment: it was made of hundreds of white, black and gray shades and its surface moved. He screamed, by recognizing his own room seen from above.

Not northwards. Above.

Rìem tightened his grip on him, preventing Lelx from falling back.

"That’s right," he said, with his calm voice, "That’s your Dimension."

"Woah," Lelx was panting and trembling with excitement, “Woah."

"Never experienced such a view, mh?" The Sphere joked. "Do you want to see more?"

Lelx brought his eye back to him.

"Can I?"

"Of course." Rìem released his arm and, by holding Lelx only by the hand, guided him higher. "Watch with me your Dimension from above and you’ll see what your eye has never been able to see, but only imagine."

Rìem pointed to the long segment in front of them.

"Look" he invited him. "This is the Plane."

And Lelx looked.

He watched his own house from above, his mother lulling his younger brother to sleep, his younger sister playing in the garden with another Line. He saw the neighbor working on his flowers, the neighbor’s wife wandering in the kitchen. He saw two Hexagons moving toward the city center. He saw his father in the shop, talking to a customer. He saw a Dodecagon in his study, with his wife whirling around him. He saw the inside of the Hall of the States, Circles talking to each other, accompanied by their Square secretaries. He saw Irregulars locked up in the state prisons.

Rìem accompanied him away from the city, towards the countryside, and Lelx kept seeing. He saw a woman kill her husband and run out of the house. He saw an Isosceles digging into the depths of the earth. He saw a Square picking flowers on the side of the street. He saw an Irregular refugee hidden in the woods, far from society. He saw rows of Isosceles marching in a military parade. He saw small Squares playing together in a field.

And the more he looked, the more he saw. The more he saw, the more he understood. The more he saw, the smaller his Dimension became.

Lelx turned to Rìem.

"Show me more," he asked, breathless. "Show me everything."

Rìem smiled at him and turned his back on the Second Dimension, pointing to the immensity that surrounded them.

"Come with me," he invited Lelx, “And I'll show you a world, which is broader and wider than you can ever imagine."

Chapter Text

ACT II - RÌEM

CHAPTER 5

Rìem’s Dimension, the Solid, was only twice the size of the Plane: yet the irregular vastness of its hills, the distant peaks of the mountains and the alternation of houses made it seem boundless for Lelx’ eye that was accustomed to just two dimensions.

Height gave everything a greater depth, which was missing in his world. There were empty spaces among the houses and areas of nothing around the trees, where it was possible to walk, by moving in the free space below the intertwined branches. Such a movement was impossible in his dimension: he would have been stuck between the branches.

"Don't strain your eye too much," Rìem advised him. “You’re not yet used to a three-dimensional vision."

"And missing something like that? Are you kidding me?" Lelx continued to look around, his eye eagerly taking every detail of his surroundings. If Rìem had not kept holding his hand, he probably would have wandered lost around the entire Dimension.

Rìem led him into a garden and up the steps of an isolated mansion. The trees surrounded it and the front shone in a tone that was other, lightly whistling like the sound that reached them from hidden birds. He opened the door and stood aside, showing him the inside of the place.

"This is my home."

In three dimensions, his house was colossal. The depth and the intense sound of tones made his eye burn and Lelx was forced to close it, bringing his hands on the shape. Immediately, he felt Riem’s touch on his back.

"I told you to ease up," he said. "Come with me, I'll take you to a quieter place."

The library was a single shade, with few other tones to contrast it. Depth was less dizzying too, thanks to the semicircle made by the bookcases that blocked his view.

"Thank you."

"It's nothing." Rìem came up with a box and placed it on the table between them. From his chair, Lelx was too low to see, so he stood up and climbed on the table.

Rìem opened the box and pulled out something.

"Here it is," he said, placing a thing on the table. "This is the result of the problem I asked you: a solid made up of four identical, equilateral triangles. Now maybe you won't be able to see it well, but use your hands to help."

Lelx took the solid and passed his hands over each surface, touching its vertices, moving in more dimensions with trembling fingers.

"So, that’s the answer." His voice trembled with excitement. "Has it a name?"

"It's called Tetrahedron."

"It’s a strange name." His eye bent into a smile. "I like it."

"And this." Rìem took another solid from the box. "It’s made up of six Squares: it’s called Cube."

From the Cube, he moved on to the Pentahedron, from the Pentahedron to the Octahedron, from the Octahedron to the Icosahedron. Surfaces were called faces, vertices had more and more obtuse angles, increasingly tending towards the perfection of the Sphere. It was easier this way, to focus on a single solid at the time, on a single tone that trilled and played, which was sometimes rough and sometimes soft. The eye no longer burned and, indeed, focused on every detail of those new Shapes with reverence.

"And this,” Rìem said, while still taking out wonders from his box, "It’s a Pyramid."

Lelx's eye eagerly examined the shape of the new solid, his mind was already imagining all the geometric formulas hidden behind it. Oh, how wide was the geometry of the Three Dimensions, thanks to that wide range of new shapes! He counted three equilateral faces, traced the base with his fingers... and found four sides.

"Four Triangles and a Square?!" he commented, puzzled. He raised his eye on Rìem. "And that’s an existing Shape?"

"Of course. Even if, actually Pyramids are not part of the regular solids," Rìem told him. "But this isn’t a problem in our society. We don’t need precautions for them: although not as perfectly regular as Tetrahedrons, their behavior is impeccable. In our world it’s not what you look like that determines what you are, but your actions. Your behavior."

Lelx widened his eye.

"Not the Configuration?"

"No." Rìem gave him an amused look. "In fact, it doesn't matter to us at all. What matters is what you want to do, what you like. Your desires.”

Lelx laughed.

"Women have always been right!" he exclaimed, "And my father was wrong! Oh geez, tell me if that’s not crazy!"

Riem laughed and sat in the chair Lelx had left empty.

"There are families of Tetrahedrons who own millionaire businesses. One of the most important Cubes of our world is the Director of a television company - and, yes, I'll show you a television," he added, anticipating his request. He brought a hand on his Shape. "While my family has been visiting the Plane for generations, looking for an apostle who can spread the Gospel of the Three Dimensions."

"So there are Solids that are even more important than you?!"

"I told you." Rìem took another shape from the box. “This world is much larger and its rules much wider compared to yours."

Lelx took the new solid and passed it in his hands.

"Two Squares," he counted, “And four Rectangles, eight solid angles."

"A Parallelepiped," Rìem explained, "Made by the movement of a Rectangle in Space."

Lelx chuckled again. He felt drunk with all this knowledge that was falling on him and that he was literally touching.

"The movement of an Irregular in Space creates such regular shapes.”

"Do you understand now why it’s so foolish to punish Irregulars for their Configuration?" Rìem told him. "They are still Shapes of geometry. They’ll exist forever, so it's absurd to brand them as evil, just for their appearance. It’s not regularity that determines the Shape. Think about it: if that was true, you would’ve never agreed to come with me."

Lelx lowered his eye to the Parallelepiped. A non-regular solid, but still regular enough to live without disturbing anyone. The concept of Configuration was meaningless in that world.

"You know," he said, running a finger along one of the sides of the figure, "I think you're right.”

Rem's two eyes bent into a broad smile. Lelx looked up at him again.

"You got other solids for me?"

"Sure." Rìem shook the box and the objects inside clattered. "Cones, other Pyramids, and the whole race of Prisms."

"Go ahead." Lelx crossed his legs and held out his hands, ready to welcome the new solid. "I want to see them all."

It took another two hours for his eye to get used to the three-dimensional vision, and Rìem became hoarse from talking. He put the tea on and they drank it together, Lelx still sitting on the table. He liked there, surrounded by those solid figures that sang with their tones and repeated to him the few formulas that Rìem had shared, like a lullaby.

Volumes, bases, heights. Perimeter and area, endpoints of his geometry, became new starting points for the vast solid geometry. If the area of a Square was found by raising the side to the power of two, the volume was found by raising the side to the power of three. Everything went up a level, everything moved a step up.

And they had just started.

Rìem took a book as big as he was from his library and opened it on the table. Lelx reached him and leaned over, curious.

The white pages were covered with black marks. In the upper right, enclosed in a rectangle, there was an incredible assembly of other breath-taking tones, a roar of impossible sounds that made his eye and arms tremble.

"This is the way we write in the Third Dimension," Rìem explained. "I will teach you my alphabet and the Common one of the Multiverse. There are just a couple of different sounds, but nothing too complicated. You’ll easily remember.”

Lelx reached out and stroked the rectangle of shades, feeling its roughness and vibration.

"Do you want to start with colors first?" the Sphere asked.

"Colors?"

"That’s what they’re called and everyone has their name," Rìem explained. "I'll let you know all of them." He stood up and took a different book, covered with images, from the shelf.

"These," he explained while opening the book on the table, "Are photos of paintings. Look at the colors.”

Entranced by that incredible wonder, Lelx placed both hands on the pages and colors exploded, thundered around him, spoke to him, made his whole shape shake. One, in particular, resonated with the same shade he still felt lingering on his tongue: he touched it and the taste came back, stronger, enhanced by that marvelous symmetry.

"This is it!" He yelled, struck by that sensation.

"Excuse me?" Rìem asked, puzzled.

Lelx reached for the cup of tea, grabbed it and raised it toward Rìem’s eyes.

"It's the same!" He repeated. "The same taste!"

Rìem moved his gaze from the cup to him, as if he did not understand. What was so hard to understand? They were the same!

"This!" Lelx hit the book with his other hand, on the shade that tasted the same as the tea. "They’re the same thing!"

"Pink and tea are the same thing?" Rìem raised an eyebrow, perplexed.

"Yes," Lelx repeated, "They're the same, can't you hear it?"

Riem's eyes moved from the book to the cup, to him.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Although..." Lelx brought the cup close to the eye. "This smell is more like..." he turned to look at the book and, in the sea of vibrating tones, he found a stronger one. He pointed it out. "This."

Rie leaned forward to look.

"Blue has the same scent as honey?"

"Yes!" Lelx exclaimed. He was finally understanding! It was about time too, he was not saying anything complicated!

But Rìem kept looking between him and the two objects, even though his expression was more curious than perplexed. Then he stood up and went to the bookcase: he took a thin book from a shelf.

"What’s that?" Lelx asked, curious.

"Music," Rìem replied. "Oh, right, I forgot it doesn’t exist in the Plane. Then we can call them... pleasant sounds, yes."

He tilted the book and, from the inside, a black disk came out. Rìem laid it on a rectangular box, placed on a table in front of the window.

"Here in the Solid there are instruments that emit very harmonious sounds," he explained, fiddling with a metal arm, which ended with a needle. "I want you to hear one of them. Tell me what you feel."

The needle touched the disc, which began to rotate. Suddenly a sound came from the box, an harmony that spoke to him differently compared to tea and honey, an auditory wonder with a brand new vibration.

Lelx lowered his eyes to the book of pictures and, in the set of tones, he recognized the one that vibrated in the same way.

"This." He pointed it out. "This is it."

Rìem almost ran to him, grabbed the edge of the table and looked avidly.

"Green," he declared, breathless. He raised his eye to Lelx. "The color green and the sound of the violin are the same, for you?"

"Is this sound called "violin"?" Lelx half-closed his eye and let his hand pass over the picture, feeling its music. "And this one? What’s its name?"

Rìem ran back to the box with the disk and rotated a knob: the green sound faded and made room for another sound, which was linked to what he still felt lingering on his tongue.

"Pink!" he yelled, "It's pink!"

"Do you feel pink again?" Riem turned back to him. "With this sound?"

"Of course I feel it." Lelx stroked the page. "Even this smell is pink."

"What smell?"

"This book." Lelx rubbed his fingers against it. "Even if its smoothness has another shade."

"The... what?"

"This smoothness." Lelx ran his fingers over the page, rubbed them on the table. "This. It’s the same as this other shade here."

Rìem was furrowing his eyebrows, alternating his gaze from him to the book, to the table, as if he could not understand again. Lelx rolled his eye: why he did not understand? It was not so hard!

"Brown?" Rìem asked.

"This," Lelx repeated. He leaned toward Rìem, grabbed his hand and rubbed his fingers on the table, just like he did before. "This smooth. It's like brown."

Riem's eyes widened as they moved from the table to him.

"While this..." Lelx touched the edge of the book with the tip of the index finger. "The sharpness note resembles this other tone."

Rìem kept shifting his gaze, from him to the book, from him to the table, from him to the colors. His eyes were still wide open, Lelx could almost see his mind grind up the information he was giving him.

"So..." Rìem began, slowly. "The color pink tastes of tea, smells like paper and has the sound of the piano. While what is smooth is the same as the color brown and what is sharp is the same as purple.”

"Are those the names?" Lelx ran both hands over the photo of the painting: the colors kept whispering to him, transmitting different vibrations. The pink shone stronger than the others, enhanced by the music and the flavor that still lingered on his tongue. "I want to know all the others too. Are there any other?" He turned the page and held his breath, his eye widened by looking at a new color.

"Oooh, I like this one!" He said with enthusiasm, placing both hands on the new color. It burned the eye and sang unceasingly, his shade was made of wonderful music. The mere touch made Lelx’ arms tremble and the color pulled him nearer, wrapped him in its embrace.

"Do you like it?" Rìem repeated, his voice astonished and perplexed.

Lelx tried to reproduce the same sound, burst out laughing and tried again.

"It's like this," he said. "It's crunchy and... and something else. I don't remember now. I've tried it before." He stroked it again. "And it's like a second surface."

Rìem looked down.

"Yellow." He looked at him "Yellow is all of this?"

"Is it called yellow?" Lelx laughed. "It has a good name too!"

He looked up at Riem and saw the Sphere staring at him, his eyes bent into an even broader smile.

"I can't believe it.” His voice was overflowing with astonishment."I wouldn't believe it at all if I hadn’t you here in front of me.” He laughed, and even his laugh expressed the same disbelief.

"What are you talking about?"

"This!" He raised both hands towards him. "Your synesthesia!"

"My what?"

"Synesthesia," he repeated. "It’s the simultaneous activation of two different senses when placed in front of the same input. When you see pink, you don’t see only a color, but you also hear a sound." He laughed. "And, apparently, you perceive a taste, a smell and - I assume - a texture too, which we haven’t found yet." His voice was euphoric. "That’s crazy!"

"What's so strange about it?" Lelx shrugged. "You feel the same."

Rìem laughed again, even more ecstatic.

"Oh, I'd love to!" He replied. "But it’s not like that. Synesthesia is an extremely rare condition and very few creatures have it. I’ve never heard, in the whole Multiverse, of someone who was able to perceive more than three senses together." He laughed again. "Let alone five!”

Lelx lowered his eye to the picture of the painting, caressing its thundering colors. New music came out from the box, a melody made of overlapping sounds. The sounds made the colors flare up and shone stronger, vibrating in an unknown way. Lelx trembled from top to toe, with such violence that Rìem touched his arm and looked at him with wide eyes.

"What’s happening?"

Lelx looked at him and even Rìem's color exploded, shining and vibrating strongly that before, his edges became more vivid, the blue rekindled the taste of honey still dormant on his tongue, that connected to one of the sounds of that music and reminded him of other things, other sensations, other scents, other senses he had already tried and that overlapped together...

Rìem turned back, looked at the box of sounds and seemed to understand. He reached it in a hurry, raised its pointed arm and the music stopped, the colors subsided, the vibrations quieted. Lelx exhaled. He had not even realized he was holding his breath and suddenly he felt lighter, on the verge of fainting.

"Woah," he said, "Woah." He leaned against the book with one hand and brought the other to the top: his whole shape was tingling. "Play it again, I want to hear it another time."

"Take it easy." Rìem came back to him. "If your senses really respond altogether, one color at a time is already an all-encompassing experience and I don’t want you to collapse."

"I'm not collapsing," he insisted. "I'm fine!"

Rìem ignored him and rubbed under his eyes, thinking about something.

"We need to know what you’re reacting to: there are still so many things that don’t exist in the Plane and that you’ve never seen. I will try to let you know as many things as possible so that we could associate everything with each color."

He took another book from the shelves and replaced it with the one Lelx had before him.

"But first you must recognize the individual colors," he said. He opened the first page, entirely covered with a single, vibrating tone. "We’ll start from this. Then we’ll move on to a new one."

It was not just learning, not anymore.

There were sensations he had never felt, that he did not even think was possible to feel. Once he learned the names of each color, Rìem let him listen to music, a single musical instrument at a time. He showed him how they were made, he told him how they worked: how air passes through the holes of a flute, how the strings of a violin vibrated, how sound waves propagated in space. Answers to questions Lelx had always had, but that no teacher had ever managed to satisfy.

Rìem made a chart, dividing the five senses into columns. The first column was reserved for colors, the second was for sounds.

"And this?" He asked, referring to brown. "What does it sound like?"

Lelx laughed and pointed to the window. Rìem turned: in the silence, the room was filled with the soft tapping of the rain.

"I heard this sound for years and I never knew how to connect it to something." He crossed his legs. "Now I know it's brown."

Once they found all sounds, Rìem switched off the music and moved on to taste. The table was covered with drinks and all kinds of food: in some cases, food and color were out of tune, creating a contrast that made Lelx feel lightheaded and his shape tingle.

"What about this?" Rìem tapped on the chart: the box reserved for a yellow taste was still empty. "Is there any taste that’s at least close to it?"

Lelx kept turning his tea. With his other hand, he was stroking the yellow. The color vibrated with him, it sang on and inside him, brilliant with life. Lelx looked at the chart, at the boxes that he and Rìem were slowly filling. He had experienced an avalanche of new sensations, he was still experimenting with others. And they were only halfway. And who knows what else he still had to discover!

"You said it's crunchy, okay, but a taste? Don’t you feel anything you remember?"

Lelx looked at his spoon and stuffed it into his mouth, nibbling at the metal. The yellow exploded again, powerful and beautiful, making him laugh so hard he almost swallowed the whole spoon.

"What the...?!"

"This!" he yelled, shaking the spoon. "Metal!"

"Metal?" Rìem repeated, arching an eyebrow. "But it’s not a taste."

"Of course it is!" Lelx answered. "That's why it was so familiar!" He laughed again. "When I was a small Shape, I did nothing but bite all the cutlery I found!"

Rìem’s puzzled expression melted and he laughed with Lelx, with his genuine, cheerful laugh.

"It’s a miracle you’re still alive.” He took the marker and turned to the chart. "Fine, metal.”

Once they found all related tastes, Rìem moved on to touch. The table was cleared out of food and covered with all kinds of fabrics, things with the most different textures, some familiar, others unknown. Brown was smooth, red was as soft as silk, orange was cold and scaled.

"They always vibrated differently," Lelx said, while stroking the folds of the paper, wavy like green and pointy as purple. "And I didn't understand. But now I know what they are associated with."

The last sense was the smell. The table emptied and was filled again, this time with perfumes. Flasks and bottles of an infinite number of smells, some strong enough to fill the room, others so fleeting to be almost non-existent.

Lelx only identified mint.

"Is it possible that they’re not associated with anything?" Rìem tapped the marker under his eyes, looking for a solution. Lelx closed the umpteenth bottle and pushed it away.

"It tastes, it doesn't smell," he answered. "Those are flavors I’ve already tried."

Rìem snapped his fingers.

"What if..." he opened the window and invited Lelx to come closer. "Smell the rain. What do you feel?"

Lelx did it and the smell lit a color.

"You."

"Mh?"

Lelx touched his shape with a finger.

"Blue," he replied, "Dark blue, to be precise. But it's blue. If it were cooler," he added, pointing to the rain, "It would be the same as your blue."

Rìem took away all bottled perfumes and switched to something else. He lit the fireplace and made Lelx smell wood, gave him herbs and spices, held the window open to let him pick up smells from the outside. In a lemon, Lelx identified the sour scent of yellow. The damp wood was light blue, the warm was red.

"I found purple." he suddenly declared.

"Is this one?" Rìem gave a look at the tobacco box in his hand.

"No, that’s orange." Lelx closed the box and set it aside. "Purple has the smell of the wind. One day I was coming home and there was this incredible wind. It didn't feel like anything I had around, but it had its scent and it was so unique, that I couldn't associate it with anything. It stayed on me all night and I never understood." He looked at Rìem. "Until now."

Rìem wrote the last sensation and took a step back, to examine the complete chart. Each color had a corresponding sound, taste, texture and scent. It was absurd. It was wonderful.

The Sphere winced so suddenly that Lelx winced too. He clapped his hand on the top and laughed.

"We’ve forgotten the colors you've always seen!" he exclaimed, then turned to him. "Did you perceive different senses for white, black and gray too?"

"Of course," Lelx replied, crossing his legs. "I thought others felt them in the same way."

Rìem wrote the three colors at the bottom of the chart.

"What white sounds like?" He asked, curiously.

Lelx focused and recalled the whiteness of the walls of his old room. He blinked, then clicked his tongue.

"White is a slow breath," he answered. "It tastes of lemons and smells like soil." He raised a hand. "While the texture is hard. No, not really. It's gritty. " He looked at Rìem. "It’s as if you take a handful of snow in a fist."

Rìem wrote everything down.

"What about black?"

"Black’s like... like this sound here." And he pointed to the burning fireplace. "Small crackles. It has a grainy taste and, when you touch it, it flows. It's like a river of marbles.”

"River of marbles?" Rìem repeated. “Have you ever touched such a thing?"

"That's how I feel it," Lelx replied. "And yes, when I was a small Shape, I had a lot of marbles in a jar. Every time I put my hand inside, I felt the black.”

"And what’s its smell?"

"Embers." He turned towards the fireplace. "When the fire is already out and everything has been burned ."

"That’s great." was Rìem’s comment. His voice was ecstatic. "And what about gray?"

Lelx' smile faded. He looked away from the fire and down on himself, on his shape, gray just like all the inhabitants of the Plane.

"Gray is silence," his voice was serious. "It has no taste. It’s dry." Lelx rubbed his hands together. "And it has the same texture as rough bricks."

The marker stopped. Lelx looked up and saw Rìem backing away, looking at the chart, finally completed with all the basic colors. The Sphere’s arms were down to his sides and his wide eyes were mesmerized by that view.

"I still can't believe it," he murmured, in a tone full of reverence. "You really perceive everything with five senses together."

Rìem turned to him and examined his whole shape, from top to toe, with something similar to disbelieving adoration.

"I never thought there could be a creature in the Plane who was also a synesthete," he said, with that same incredulous tone. “And what a synesthete! Five senses that react together!" He put a hand over his eyes. "It's a true miracle I found you and managed to bring you here. This capacity of yours... " He burst out laughing. "I'm almost jealous: the world you perceive must be roaring.”

"You can get an idea," Lelx answered, with a sly tone. "You said that everyone has a slight form of synesthesia, including you."

"True". Rìem sat on the ground next to him, facing the fireplace. "But I don't think there is someone in the whole Multiverse who's able to feel what you feel." His two eyes shone with joy. "You are a special creature, Lelx."

Lelx looked down at his hands, turned his palms up. His whole shape trembled with excitement, awareness opened up inside him like a flower's corolla. He was the first Equilateral to visit the Third Dimension. He was the first Shape that learned to see deeply. The first to solve Rìem’s three-dimensional problem. The only synesthete of the Multiverse that could perceive everything with five senses together.

He was not different just in his Dimension. He was different compared to the whole Multiverse.

"You're right," he admitted. He looked up at Rìem. "Make me know more. I want to know everything."

Reading also turned out to be a multi-sensory experience.

Rìem showed him the alphabet of the Solid: as soon as Lelx laid his eye on the letters, they lit up in different colors and each color led to a music, a smell, a vibration. He touched them with reverence, caressed their textures, laughed in front of those new stimuli.

"Even these!" Rìem was smiling, elated as Lelx was. "Even letters!"

Some letters were sharp and crunchy, others curved and viscous. Rìem showed him the Common Alphabet of the Multiverse too and different letters stood out: C was smooth, R was blue and tasted like cotton candy, B rang, S was dark red and heavy. Combining them into words was like creating paintings, melodies, perfumes, delicious dishes. The word "Alfa" was heavy, red and white, with a hint of blue and a dry taste, as if he could break it in half and crunch it.

"Was it the same with the two-dimensional alphabet?" Rìem asked.

"It wasn't so intense." Lelx ran his finger over the letters, tracing them one by one. "Some letters stood out stronger than the others, especially F which is black, and I which is white. While the others all kind of look the same." He turned to look at Rìem and laughed, with bright eye. "Now, each of them has its recognizable appearance and it's amazing."

From letters, they moved to numbers and even calculations were chromatic beauty. If they were correct, development and result created harmony; if they were wrong, they created disharmony. He realized it, by deliberately messing up an addition: the harmony of tones and shades broke in the exact part where the mistake was. Once he corrected it, the harmony kept playing until the end.

He tried a different formula, by creating a different harmony. Rìem congratulated him: he had just found an alternative way to solve that problem.

"More," he asked Rìem. "Give me more."

The Sphere switched to other books, increasingly complex mathematics, and geometry manuals. He taught him theories, formulas, and developments. From math, he came back to music and pointed out the connections between the two arts. He showed him a television, other Shapes from the Solid speaking, and their dances.

"More."

He told him about their planet, their star, and all the others far away. He explained chemical formulas, talked about metals and how they reacted, phase changes, and color changes. He showed him other paintings, told him about their artists, perspective and vanishing points. He showed him the nuances, where colors met and created intermediate tones. He told him about the Solid’s society, the equality between all Shapes, of how they renounced war to grow and develop as a species.

It was so much, too much for a single life. But Lelx wanted all that the Third Dimension had to offer him. He was special. He was a complete synesthete. He was open-minded enough, to be able to absorb the knowledge of an entire world.

"I want more," he asked Rìem, the voice hoarse for too many questions, the eye burning from all the time spent comprehending every word, every image, every detail.

"That’s enough for today," Rìem said. "You need to rest."

"I want more," Lelx insisted, "I want to see more."

The Sphere smiled, looking at him with paternal affection.

“Take it easy," he said, "There’s time for everything."

"I want to see more things together," Lelx replied.

"It's still too early for that," Rìem answered in a mild voice. "Considering your peculiar synesthesia, it's better to take things slow. I don't want to risk overloading you, as happened the first time."

"But it was a long time ago!" Lelx retorted. "It's been a year now! I’ve learned to see in a three-dimensional way and I’m no longer overwhelmed by colors like before! I can handle all my senses together!"

Rìem turned around and went back to the library, searching for new volumes. Lelx passed the Sphere and stood in front of him, with arms crossed and fiery eye.

"I want to see other creatures too!" He insisted. "You said you can access the Multiverse, don't you? There’s going to be a safe place from which I can look at them!"

"You’ve already seen them on the TV."

"But I want to see them in person!"

Rìem sighed.

"It may be dangerous."

"More than getting out of my Dimension and coming here?" Lelx grabbed his arm and pulled Rìem to the side, away from the bookcase. "Come ooooon..."

Rìem managed to resist for half a second, before bursting into joyful laughter. He raised his other arm.

"All right, all right!" he surrendered, with an even brighter smile. "Give me a couple of days and I'll find the perfect place."

Chapter Text

ACT II - RÌEM

CHAPTER 6

The perfect place to look at people turned out to be a small station, from which portals opened to other areas of the Multiverse. There were five portals in total, each controlled by a tall creature, with one head, two arms and four legs. On the opposite side of the station, in the arrival area, new portals opened every minute, each in its safety capsule: the creatures who came out were checked and scanned, before passing through the station and reaching the departure area.

"Very few of them will stay here in the Solid," Rìem explained. "Usually they’re all passing by."

Lelx grabbed the railing with both hands and looked through the clear glass. They were in an elevated position, safely inside the station bar: there was no one there, except for the bartender - a bored Prism - and a couple of foreigners, who were just eating something before leaving. None of them had looked or paid attention to the two of them, either when they arrived, or when they sat down.

"It’s better if we keep a low profile," Rìem had told him. "I’m three-dimensional and I have no problem walking around here, but you’re two-dimensional: another creature might hit and break you, without even realizing it."

So they sat at the table closest to the edge, to let Lelx watch the creatures who filled the station.

"What about that one?" He asked, pointing to one creature.

"That’s a Crepacian," Rìem replied. "If I’m not mistaken, it comes from Dimension 30. They’re very tied to family and habits, so it’s quite rare for them to travel. This one must be here to visit some family member."

"And that one?"

"An inhabitant of Xila. Dimension 88." Rìem looked at the creature from head to toe. "Considering how he’s dressed, I think he’s ready for the hunting season. Maybe he’s going on X-233: it's the most famous Dimension for hunting, they usually all go there."

Lelx gathered the information, without taking his eyes off that sea of colors. There was perfection in the muttering of voices that reached him, in the movement of those creatures, in the sound of their steps, in their colors and shapes so different from his own. Some beings had only one arm, others two, three, five, or none. Some were made of one color, others had dozens on them. Some were regular, others seemed to be made up of different parts joined together. An armored being came out of a portal and two alarms started ringing, alerting the guards who forced him to come out of his armor: what came out of it was a thin, soggy being, which rolled up on itself while the security guards searched his armor. Some meters away, another being began to protest loudly, by using the Common Alphabet: he kept repeating, in an orange voice, that his baggage had been lost and that they had to help him because he had business to do.

A third being came from another portal. The creature was bright red with a very sweet taste and smelled of dry wood. He headed for the security checks and, with each step he took, the sound of the tuba accompanied him. The guards made him turn around, examining him from every side. Six faces, eight vertices, and twelve edges.

"A Cube," Lelx murmured. He was vibrating with excitement. A real Cube, not just a toy or an image on a TV screen!

"Yes." He heard a smile in Rìem’s voice. "He must be back from a concert tour."

Lelx turned to look at him.

"Do you know him?"

"I just assumed it from the suitcase," the Sphere replied, glancing in that direction. Lelx brought the eye back to the Cube. "That’s a guitar case.”

"Do you think he will play something?"

"Here?"

"He could skip the security checks," Lelx replied. "I would let him pass."

Riem giggled.

"I think I'll go for a coffee." A chair moved. "Do you want anything?"

"Whatever you want," Lelx replied, still following the Cube with his eye. "Three or more colors."

"Don't push your luck, now," he said, laughing. "You're stimulated enough." He gave him a pat on the arm. “I’ll be right back.”

"U-uh," Lelx answered, eye still focused on the Cube. His vibrant red was freed by the guards, who gave him the passport and let him pass: the Cube slipped the document back into his pocket and headed for the exit, swinging his guitar case at every step.

Lelx followed him until his red disappeared over the sliding doors. Only then he looked up and turned around: Rìem had moved away and was asking something to the bartender. In response, the Prism nodded and started to fumble around a coffee machine.

Silently, Lelx slid off the chair. He wanted to pull a small prank on Rìem: he would have come up behind him and patted him straight in the middle of his shape. That would have startled Rìem so much! Then, before the Sphere could tell him anything, he would climb over the counter and have a chat with the bartender. Who knows how many creatures he had seen, during his work! Well, now he could have added also a two-dimensional Triangle with hyper-developed synaesthesia.

Or…

He stopped halfway. Or he could pull out an even better prank. He could disappear for a while, go through a portal and come back. Oh, Rìem would have been scared to death! And then, once he was back, he would have told him that he was just downstairs, didn’t you see me?... but then, once back home, he would have told Rìem the truth: he was not just downstairs, but he had visited another Dimension!

He rushed to the stairs and ran down, one hand under his eye trying to hold back laughter. Rìem’s expression would have been priceless! He could already see the Sphere lashing out against him, insulting him for his idea and yelling for his sudden disappearance! But then Lelx would have told him everything and Rìem would have calmed down.

And then, admiration would have overcome anger. Lelx was not just special, he was not just a synaesthete, but he was also clever enough to visit a Dimension all alone. Take that, two-dimensionality!

Once he reached the lower floor, he ran towards the portals area. He did not have much time, Rìem must have already found out he was not there and Lelx wanted to see something, even just a glance of a Dimension, before coming back. Oh, and it would have been better, if he could found some kind of souvenir: a little thing to bring back to Rìem, as proof of his stunt and how exceptional he was.

I am unique. I am special.

He turned to the side and none of the guards noticed him, nor heard him as he passed them in small, quick steps. Chuckling to himself, Lelx looked at the portals that opened in front of him: they were all blue and smelled like summer rain. There was only one way to choose.

"Eeny meeny, miny... you!"

And, chuckling, he jumped into it.

He landed on one foot, lost his balance, and stumbled forward, ending up lying down on the ground. Lelx put his hands on both sides of the shape and managed to get himself up: it was not the landing he hoped for, but he had made it. He had passed a portal and he was all in one piece.

And nobody had caught him! He was really talented.

"Hey there…?"

Lelx blinked and looked around. The portal had led him into a room with silver and blue walls, full of shelves overflowing with books. A semicircular desk occupied the center of the room and, sitting behind the table, there was the creature who had spoken.

It was a giant, with a white coat and long blue hair that fell from its head. It had two eyes like Rìem, but also a nose and a mouth. Metal circles of singing silver trilled among the blue hair. The giant raised a hand and the same silver circles trilled around its fingers and wrist.

"I guess you're not Corey," the giant said. It had a Woman's voice, with an amused inflection. Its lips were also bent into a smile.

"No." Lelx stood up, dusted his arms, and performed an elegant bow. "I’m Lelx Yipnon, nice to meet you!"

The alien Woman stood up, walked around the desk, and crouched in front of him.

"Leban Rys, my pleasure," she answered. "But why are you here? Are you a researcher too?"

"Yes! " Lelx looked at her with shining eye. "Are you studying too?"

She smiled.

"Of course," she replied, "Otherwise I wouldn’t be the lead researcher."

Lelx widened his eye. Not only an intelligent Woman, but a Woman leading something? The Multiverse was really another thing, compared to the Plane!

"So you rule this place?"

"There are no rulers here,” she replied. "This is a Research Center: all those who want to deepen their studies about Dimensions and the structure of the Multiverse come here, work together and help to broaden the shared knowledge of the Center." She smiled again. “We’re waiting for Corey precisely for that reason: we want to read his theories on the Multiverse.”

"I have a better story!" he argued. "I moved from the Second to the Third Dimension!"

"Oh?" Leban touched his side with her fingertips. "So you're not a very thin Tetrahedron?"

"Not at all, I'm a Triangle!"

"A two-dimensional being." Her voice was full of curiosity, as she tilted her head and looked at him from top to toe. Lelx turned around, letting himself be admired.

"You don't see many like me, do you?" He put his hands on the sides. "I bet I’m the first you ever saw."

"You guessed right." She leaned forward. "Hey, would you like to help me with my research?"

"What research?"

Leban lent him a hand, palm upward, inviting him to climb on it.

"I'll show you." She led him to the table and brought him down on the desk. Lelx looked curiously at the sheets scattered all over the surface: calculations, graphics, patterns that sang with a spicy taste, their vivid scent that rose from black embers of written texts.

"I’m studying the Dimensions." Leban sat down and pulled the chair closer. She scrolled through the sheets and took one piece of paper covered with calculations. "Their number, nature and influence in the Multiverse."

"Number?" Lelx repeated. "There are just three Dimensions."

Leban laughed while pushing back the blue hairs from her front.

“There aren’t just three Dimensions," she answered, as if it were obvious, "There are ten."

"Ten?!"

Lelx’s eye widened in astonishment. He thought that was all, that the Multiverse was made of the same three Dimensions of the Solid! Rìem had never told him about Dimensions greater than the Third! And now, he found out there were ten!

"Yes," Leban replied, with a broad smile.

"And where are these other Dimensions?" Lelx leaned toward her, drawn like a magnet. "How are they made? What do they look like? How do you see them? Can they be visited?"

"One thing at a time." Leban took a clean sheet of paper and held up a pen. "Let's start from a point." And drew a dot on the surface of the sheet. "It has no Size, it has nothing. It's just a position in space."

From that point, Leban drew a line.

"First Dimension."

"The Line," Lelx replied. That was the name Rìem used when he revealed him about the Three Dimensions. "I visited it, once," he declared. "A terrible experience. Its inhabitants are even more close-minded and dense than the Plane’s."

"It has length, but no width or height." Leban drew a line, which branched from the first. "Second Dimension."

"The Plane," Lelx said. "It has length and width."

Leban translated the Square she had created, drawing a Cube.

"Third Dimension."

"Height, length, and width." Lelx sat down next to the sheet, curiously waiting to see how she would show him the Fourth Dimension.

Leban drew a line.

"Fourth Dimension." She smiled. "Time."

"Is time a Dimension?" Lelx raised his eyebrow.

"Of course," she answered. "Think of your life: you’re born, you grow up, you get older and you die. If you want to represent this life with a schematic representation, you will use a line that goes in one direction." She pointed her pen at him. "And it's not just for you: it's true for me, for all other creatures and this whole Universe: it also moves along a line, from its birth to its death."

From the line of the Fourth Dimension, Leban created a branch.

"Now, imagine you are in a Universe, that is born as a result of a huge explosion." She tapped the pen at the starting point of the line. "This Universe will also die with an explosion," she said while moving the pen along the line that represented the Fourth Dimension. “But let’s imagine you want to see a different end: you want to see this Universe die slowly. But you won’t find this kind of death in the Dimension you are in. That end is in a different Dimension." she traced the branch again. "The Universe that dies slowly exists in the Fifth Dimension. And, if you want to reach it, you should jump through the upper Dimension: the Sixth.”

"And what’s the Seventh, then? " Lelx asked, frowning.

Leban drew up a new point.

"Seventh Dimension," she said. "It includes all the possible deaths of the Universe."

Lelx put his hand on the paper.

"But now we’ve reached the end." He looked at Leban. "What's beyond that?"

The woman's smile widened.

"This point..." and she tapped the pen on the point she just drew. "It includes all the possible deaths of the Universe that is born as the result of an explosion." She moved the pen and drew another point. "While this point, in the Seventh Dimension, includes..."

"All the possible deaths of a Universe that’s born in a completely different way!" Lelx yelled, concluding the sentence for her. "A different infinity!"

"And these both exist in the Eighth Dimension..."

"And, if I wanted to jump from one Universe to the other, I’d have to move along the Ninth Dimension!" Lelx jumped up. "And then the Tenth Dimension includes everything: all the ramifications, of all the timelines, of all possible Universes!"

Leban smiled at him, a pleased expression brightened her front. Lelx swayed on his legs, his own words leaned on him, with all their weight. The awareness of how huge was what he had just said made his knees bend and he fell back on the table. His whole shape was beating, just for the effort to imagine the sheer size of it. He grabbed his top, trying to grasp that concept, to cling to it, to visualize something so vast.

Rìem had not told him anything about that. And, in his little world, they knew even less. He looked at the paper sheet, on which the different lines were traced: his world, the Plane, as Rìem called it, was even more microscopic, compared to that unimaginable immensity. Its scholars had no idea what there was beyond their flat boundaries.

"Ten Dimensions," he murmured. "It’s much, much broader and wider than I could ever imagine."

"It amazes me every time," Leban agreed. "The first time, I felt very, very small. But it’s also why I love doing research: even though I am way smaller than all of this, I can understand it and learn about it. And I think this theory gives a sense of everything... of this huge plan."

Lelx looked up at her, at that unknown creature with a wide, satisfied smile, who trilled of silver and smelled of blue. She was not afraid of limits but overcame them to know even more. She had explored the structure of the Multiverse, recognized its layers, and given them a name and a shape.

In his Dimension, Shapes didn't even know where the light came from.

"Doctor Leban."

Both the researcher and Lelx turned around: the door was open and, on the threshold, there was another figure, similar to Leban, but with tentacles instead of arms.

"Yes?"

"The analyzer in Sector Three," the newcomer said, with a deep voice, "It produced an answer. They’re just waiting for you to analyze it."

"I’m coming." Leban stood up and leaned back to look at Lelx. "I apologize, but they need me." She pointed to her desk. "In the meantime, get yourself comfortable: I'll be back in a couple of hours."

And, without adding anything else, the researcher went out. A white flourish of her coat, a slow breath broken by the closing of the gray door.

Lelx found himself alone, on his knees, on the Woman's desk. He stood up and looked again at the marks drawn by her pen on the paper. First, Second, Third Dimension. The Time Dimension. The dimensional jumps. The Tenth Dimension, the point that encompassed every possible infinity.

All those discoveries and had been done in one research center, one of probably billions of Centers scattered throughout the whole Multiverse! Who knows how much knowledge there was he had not found yet, how many other Dimensions, everything at one portal away! Maybe there was another Center just around the corner, even more advanced than that one!

A whooshing sound made him look up: a portal had just opened in the wall opposite the desk, a blue spiral with a sweet taste of honey. A soggy creature came out, made of a transparent orange, dotted with blue and red spots. Like Leban, he also wore a white coat, but it was stained with pink and green. His entire presence was an orchestra that resounded so loudly that Lelx did not catch what he had just said.

"What?" Lelx asked.

"Where’s Leban?" The being repeated, "And who are you?"

"Leban went to Sector Three," Lelx answered, pointing to the door. "The analyzer answered."

"They could’ve warned me, for Shalagh!" The creature swore as he ran out of the room, leaving behind colored dust that hovered in the air and fell back onto the ground.

Lelx watched the door close once more. A part of him wanted to follow that guy, go to Sector Three and see this famous analyzer. But the portal was still open and it called him, swirling tirelessly. He sighed: he had to go back home.

He took Leban's paper and folded it. He would take it to Rìem as a proof and Lelx would talk to him about the Ten Dimensions: the Sphere would have been astonished to see what he had managed to do, in half an hour, all alone.

Lelx slid down from the table and reached the portal.

Chapter Text

ACT II - RÌEM

CHAPTER 7

As soon as he jumped out of the portal, Lelx found himself in the middle of a chaotic mess of voices.

Someone threw dust on him and he shielded his eye with both hands. The noise grew even stronger than before, towered over him.

"I've been gone for ten minutes!" He defended himself, his eyelids still tightened.

The voices were closer, but there was not the angry tone Lelx would have expected: on the contrary, the sounds were cheerful and there was... laughter?

Something made of a red consistency caressed him, delicate silk tickled his shape.

"Welcome to Roule!" A voice trilled.

“Welcome to the Celebration of Colors!” A new one announced.

"A little more back here!" A third one stepped in.

Yellow and blue voices sang around him, spicy like green, crackling like black. Lelx moved his arms away and carefully opened his eyelids: he was in a tent, surrounded by smiling figures. They were as tall as Leban, but instead of a white coat, they were covered with colors from top to toe. Lelx looked ecstatically at the being on his right: its tunic was a chaotic orchestra of red, orange, yellow, and blue.

All right, I'm not at the station. But this place looks awesome!

Another figure approached, holding a mirror in its hands. The creature knelt in front of him and turned the mirror so that Lelx could see himself.

And what he saw, left him speechless.

His shape was no longer gray and silent, but a symphony was playing on him. Blue, pink, green, orange, brown, yellow, all colors touched, intertwined their instruments, mixed flavors, and sounds. It was music he never heard, a chaotic text, a meal of overlapping foods. Lelx looked down at himself and pressed both hands on his surface: colors vibrated against his fingertips, their textures made his skin tingle. His knees buckled under the weight of that marvelous chaos, his arms trembled, words died on his tongue. Even his vision was blurred by the intensity of that orchestra.

“Do you like it?” Asked one of those creatures. Its voice was yellow, crisp, and gentle.

“Do you want some other color?”

That question woke him up from his trance: Lelx diverted his attention from the mirror and focused on the creature who had spoken.

"Do you have other colors?" He asked, his voice filled with wonder.

“As many as you want!”

Another creature bent down and put a mirror behind Lelx, to show him his back: it was as chaotic as the front, an orchestra that played a completely different song.

He looked at his front again and yes, it was missing something.

"Some more yellow," he demanded, tapping a finger on his surface. “Here.”

One of the creatures took some powder from a small pouch strapped around its waist and threw it at him: when Lelx opened his eye and the dust dispersed, there was a yellow stain on the bottom half of his shape. He touched the color with his fingers, feeling the familiar caress against the skin, and spread the yellow from one side to the other, in a long strip that resonated with the thunderous sound of the trumpet.

He smiled, ecstatic.

“Much better,” he approved. He put his hands on both sides. “Great job, guys!”

The creatures of that Dimension laughed with him.

“Now you can enter Roule!” The creature with the yellow voice invited him, one hand lifted towards the exit. “Go on the street and celebrate colors with all of us!”

Lelx did not wait for the creature to repeat its words: he ran to the exit, pulled the drape aside and drowned in the pure bliss of senses.

It was an endless road and every creature was a different melody, a mixture of essences that created a unique perfume, a dish with a new flavor, which was replaced at every step by a different dish, another music, a perfume never smelled.

A tunic touched him and its purple stung his arm. His feet played piano flowers. He stumbled forward and grabbed a red silk tunic, mint-scented powder rained down in front of him.

Everything was color. Everything was music. Everything was food. Everything was senses and dancing chaos.

Pepper laughs made him sneeze, sugar tunics filled his stomach. Sand and paper were under his knees and between his fingers.

“Come here and make some color!” A being of nuts and honey called him.

Lelx touched the yellow stone from the pile and yellow sang for him, sang as he crumbled it into a mortar. He rubbed the dust on his arms and the blanket covered the river of marbles on his skin, the metallic scent rose from the smell of embers.

I can create color.

Tobacco and mint dancers created spicy apples that made his tongue tingle. The yellow on his arms was more intense than all the other yellows that surrounded him, it made his head spin.

Everything is senses.

A blue creature mixed yellow, orange and green and created a thundering melody, so loud it pushed Lelx to the ground. He held out his hands, leaned toward the bowl and dipped his arm up to the elbow: yellow screamed around him, deafening, reverberating its music into his shape, through muscles and nerves, into the fibers of his skin.

Color dominated him, color was inside him, color was the music around, it was all the music, all the paintings, all the foods of the world.

"The world you perceive must be roaring."

No. It was not roaring. The world was pure chaos.

“Are you all right?”

The creature that had spoken ticked and played, it was smooth and fresh, it was so sweet to make Lelx lick his lips.

He laughed and his laughter was yellow, it was the same yellow that still covered his arms, it was all the trumpets that were singing around him.

“I feel colors!” he shouted out. “I don't just see them, but I hear their music! I feel their taste, their smell, and their texture! I can hear your whole world!”

Piano dust played on him, on the flowers under his feet, on the creatures around him.

“You’re blessed!” The creature said. “You have the greatest gift!”

“The greatest gift!”

“Blessed!”

“Unique!”

Lelx swayed on the piano petals, grabbed a fistful of apples and walnuts and threw them into the crowd, spreading their scent.

"Blessed!"

The one and only in the Multiverse. The perfect synesthete.

He was in color and he was the color.

Violins and cellos played together, a concert of strings soon joined by the festive yellow of trumpets. The streets murmured in every color, the grainy dust did not contain white, but all other textures.

He fell back into the color and fresh rain fell around him. Creatures laughed, sour dust and cold dust filled his hands. His throat was dry as if he had been laughing for hours. His eye was wet as if he had been crying for hours. Maybe he had done both.

The world laughed around him, the sky played its melody, the dust swirled with tasty colors.

I am color.

And I've never been more alive.

He got his voice back and Lelx laughed, laughed with all his strength, laughed at the existence, laughed at the blood beating in his veins. He stood up and laughed, walked and laughed, laughed while diving among vibrant mint hurricanes, soft silk with a sweet taste, crunchy flowers, smells of rain that cooled him down.

"I'm alive!" He exclaimed inside him and the color exclaimed around him. "I'm alive!"

The world laughed with him, colors vibrated, creatures sang. Every step was life, explosion, food. He wanted to eat more, he wanted to smell more, he wanted to dance more, to look more, to touch more, to play more.

The river was a pentagram, the flowers were violin notes, piano keys, bell chimes, trumpet solos. His reflection was spirals of color, his edges were dust and chaos.

He was the color. He was the party.

His hand touched rough bricks made of the warm smell of wood. A sudden color hit him and Lelx spun around. Dust caressed him, its freshness lingered on him. He stumbled backward and fell on his back.

The light turned off, heat disappeared. The sky was no longer blue and full of colorful dust. There was no sky at all, let alone swirling colors. Lelx blinked, puzzled: above him, there was a black ceiling lit by a red light, which illuminated its rock ledges.

A cave?

Lelx tried to get up. His arms and legs ached as if he had been walking for hours. He felt lightheaded and dizzy at the same time as if all his internal organs had been turned inside out. His throat was dry, his eye was burning and, above all, he had no idea where he was. A moment before he was in a paradise of colors and senses, a moment later he was in a black cave barely illuminated by a light coming from behind him.

Did I jump through a portal without noticing?

Lelx propped on his elbows and, slowly, he managed to sit up. He turned toward the light and saw some black figures, sitting around a fire. In the background, the entrance of the cave was barely visible, filled with a deep, nocturnal blue.

No sign of Roule, no sign of the party. He must have ended up somewhere else.

"Hey," he called out. His voice was hoarse and he was out of breath: Lelx licked his lips and tried again. "What are you doing here?"

He tried to stand up and all his muscles protested. He tried to take a step anyway, but he swayed forward and clung to the wall just in time. A small chuckle escaped his lips: what an experience!

"You have to come with me, folks!" He insisted. "I've been in the most amazing place: there was so much color you can't even imagine. It's wonderful, believe me!"

The creatures did not answer him. Lelx took a few small steps toward them.

"You should come with me, you won't regret it at all," he said. His voice trailed off and he swallowed a couple of times, trying to get it back. "What are you doing?" He managed only to say, in a low murmur.

The closest creature turned to him and took off his hat. It was patched and worn, as black as the walls of the cave that surrounded them. Even his jacket was black and the being could have merged with the cave itself, if not for the blue of his eyes, punctuated by white stars: they looked like three-night skies, in which pupils were bigger stars of a deep, black light.

"Nice to meet you," he greeted him with a calm and gentle voice, slightly higher than the crackling of the fire. "I am Xerje. We were preparing ourselves for the sleep.”

Lelx could not stand up anymore, so he let himself sit on the ground, beside that creature. The others were as silent as shadows, too busy passing bowls around the fire to talk to him. Lelx leaned forward to look into the nearest bowl: he expected to find some color, but he only saw a bunch of black and round objects instead.

"What are those?" he said in a whisper.

"Part of the ritual."

"What’s a ritual?"

Xerje's long mouth curled into a smile.

"A plea," he explained. "A prayer addressed to the great Lord of the Multiverse, to thank him for protecting us during the day and to ask for his blessing during the night."

"Why? What are you doing?"

"Just rest," he replied, "But every sleep could be the last of this life and, if it is, we ask that it'll be pleasant and will let us slip into our next life without pain."

Lelx's eye widened.

"You live more lives?!"

"All the beings of the Multiverse live more than one life." Xerje took a bowl on his left and started to knead what was inside with two hands. With his other two hands, he took a long pipe and held it out to the creature on his left.

"And how do you know?" Lelx asked, "Can you see it somehow?"

"We can't see it, but we know it," he answered. "Death is never the end. After death, there's always a new beginning. Many of Lethel's species remember their previous life." He glanced at the creature on the other side of the fire: the being nodded and lowered its three eyes, focusing on the bowls in front of it.

"And you? Do you remember yours?"

"Unfortunately, no." Xerje smiled. "What about you?"

Lelx turned to look at the fire.

"I didn't even know there were more lives," he said. "I thought life was just one. That I only had one chance to do everything. And, in a way, it is, isn't it?" He raised his arms, still covered with color. "I have only one life, as Lelx, to do everything I want."

The creature on the left, handed the pipe back to Xerje, who took a puff out of it: a sweet smoke with a red scent rose around them.

"It’s the most wonderful aspect of our existence." Xerje passed the pipe to him. "Maybe we already met in a previous life, maybe we never met each other. But in this life, you and I are here."

Lelx accepted the pipe and took a puff: it was not just the scent being red, but also the taste. He passed the pipe to the creature on his right and turned to look at the fire. Red and black. It was a pleasure for his eye to focus on just two colors, after the colorful chaos of Roule. It was already burning less.

Xerje handed him a smooth, oval stone. It was of a deep red, a taste and smell much stronger than smoke.

"These are our companions," Xerje told him. "Signs of communion with everything. Stone, sand, wind, rain, sun: these elements surround us and live with us. They listen to us and accompany us throughout our entire existence. No creature of the Multiverse is ever truly alone."

Lelx ran his thumbs over the stone, caressing the soft, red surface.

"I thought every Shape was born alone and died alone."

"You can't be alone, if you’re part of everything." Xerje put his hand into the bowl in front of him, took a handful of gray powder, and threw it into the flames: the fire took on a softer tone, a pink scent of paper mixed with the warm fragrance of red.

The other creatures laid their stones around the fire and closed their eyes: Lelx did the same. It was new, that kind of atmosphere. A strange kind of calm. Peace was dull: but that peace loosened up his limbs, tired from the long party, soothed the burning sensation of his eye and made him relax, as if he was surrounded by trusted companions. It was like sitting on a large sofa, with a group of friends, waiting for another one to join them. He had never experienced something similar.

A low chant rose from the other side of the fire. Lelx lifted his eyelids: two of the creatures were singing in a tuba-like voice, blue and deep, swinging left and right. He looked at Xerje.

"It’s a song for the Lord of the Multiverse," he answered with that warm, full voice, "To celebrate him above any other God."

"What’s a God?"

"Do you live in a world without Gods?" Xerje smiled. "A wise world."

"My world is anything but wise."

The smile widened.

"A God is a superior being," He explained to Lelx. "He knows you in this life and recognizes you in all the others. He knows the answer to all the questions you can ever ask yourself. He watches over all the Universes at the same time and his mind is so vast he can understand everyone and feel pity for each one.”

"Why?"

Xerje threw more dust into the fire.

"Why?" he repeated. "Interesting question. Why is a God a God?" He looked at Lelx. "I think it’s because the Multiverse needs a hinge, around which to turn. So many Dimensions, so many creatures, need a fixed point in their journey. Without a point, without the Great Guardian, existence is nothing but chaos.”

The fire had completely lost the red scent and taken on the pink one, with a fresh tip of blue.

"And who’s this Great Guardian you worship?"

"He has many names." Xerje reached for the dust in his bowl and rubbed it between his fingers: some more fragments fell into the fire, lighting up small white lights in the heart’s flames. "But dimensional travelers like us address him with the name of Axolotl."

Even the fire’s heart was no longer red nor orange: currents of blue honey and pink tea met, wrapped in spirals and melted into each other. Looking closer, Lelx saw dots of white light shining in the center of those spirals. They reminded him of the glow points his father bought, so rare and so infinitely precious, made of a light that never faded.

"The Axolotl is above every God." Xerje kept talking. "His decision, above every decision. His power, above every other power.”

The glow points sailing in the pink currents grew larger and larger until they were no longer points. They became Circles and kept growing under his gaze, widening their area.

In the beginning, there was only length. Then width and height.

"The Axolotl listens and answers every question. He’s the protector of every traveler and the guardian of every lost creature. Today and forever, beyond the end of time.”

The white circles grew even larger, galaxies were born inside them, colors vibrated, creatures grew. They became Dimensions full of life and kept widening, moving along the line of the Fourth Dimension, expanding into the Fifth, and bending into the Sixth...

Someone grabbed his arm and Lelx blinked. He was too close to the fire, a hand raised to the bright flame. He stepped back and fell on the ground, next to Xerje. The creature was still holding his wrist: it must have been him to notice how close he was to the fire.

Lelx turned to look at him, panting: the creature's three eyes were peaceful, his gaze distant. Had he also seen what Lelx had seen? Was that a normal thing too? Or was it an oddity like synesthesia?

"If you’re out of answers and your hopes are gone, invoke the Axolotl and he will offer you a path," Xerje told him while looking beyond the flames. "He never leaves an unheard prayer."

"Has he answered yours?"

Xerje turned to look at him and smiled.

"He always does."

Lelx stayed in the cave until all the creatures curled up to sleep and everything left of the fire was black and pink embers. Only then, he stood up and went out to look for a new portal.

Chapter Text

ACT II - RÌEM

CHAPTER 8

Once he passed the portal, Lelx found himself in a room again. However, that room was different from Leban’s silver and blue study in the Research Center; it rather looked like a large living room, dominated by ochre arpeggios.

Lelx lowered his eye: grains of pink and ochre mixed on the smooth floor, creating the illusion of a sandy beach. Up above, in front of him, two ochre curtains swayed, stirred by the breeze that was coming through the open window. The sky outside was filled with the orange vibrations of bells and birds of a thin black flew in groups. Night had not fallen yet in that place.

He turned to the right: rectangular tapestries were hanging on the walls, pink spots in the dominant ochre. The only other color, aside from pink and ochre, was the brown of a long table, light wood with a taste of sugar.

And sitting behind the table, a figure cloaked in purple was looking at him.

"Oh, hi!" Lelx brushed the colored dust from his arms. "I hadn't noticed you! Is this your house?"

The figure smiled, its seven eyes narrowed.

"Hello, Lelx Yipnon."

Lelx froze on the spot, caught off.

"You know me?"

"Not yet." The creature had a feminine, harmonious voice like the ochre that surrounded her. She raised a hand towards the chair in front of her, on the other side of the table. "Do you want to sit?"

Lelx approached the figure and saw a small ladder on the side of the chair. Even the chair itself had been adapted for his height: the seat was higher than Leban’s or Rìem’s chairs, perfect to let him reach the table.

That was odd. Either that lady had a chair like that for no apparent reason, or she knew he was coming and had prepared it specifically for him. But how could she know he was going to appear right there? Maybe she was from the Leban’s Research Center too and heard the researcher talk about him? But she did not look like a researcher at all: she did not even wear a white coat, only a purple hooded tunic. And she did not look like a friend of Rìem either.

"Do you want some tea?"

There were two cups on the table, next to a full tea set. The Woman in purple poured the tea into the two cups and pushed one toward Lelx. The cup had the same sand color that filled the room, while the tea inside was playing pink notes. Lelx took a sip and even the taste was pink.

He looked at the Woman again: a dark purple tunic, deep purple eyes, a delicate lilac skin. Three different horn tones which resonated with the same harmony. The tea sounded like an extra set of chords, an extension of that figure, a piano background.

The Woman smiled at him.

"This room must be relaxing for you, compared to the confusion you experience all the time."

Lelx raised an eyebrow.

"Do you know about my synesthesia?!"

"For many it would be a punishment, but for you it’s a gift," she answered. "To see a chaotic world."

"Of course it is," he replied. "It’s interesting and it makes everything funnier!" He brought the cup to the eye and took another sip. "This tea’s pretty good! Is there jasmine in, by chance?"

She gave him a bigger smile.

"Jasmine," she confirmed, "And a bit of ginger."

"I like it." Lelx looked around. "So is that your house?"

"Yes." The Woman turned towards the window. “Dimension 52. You’ve gone quite far, from where you started."

Lelx lowered his cup. The Woman turned to look at him again: she still had that kind and distant smile lingering on her face. Her voice did not express anger or reproach.

"Did you enjoy your travels?" She asked politely, instead.

"I’ve seen so much!" He exclaimed. "I’ve learned a lot about Dimensions! Did you know that there are ten of them? I had no idea, but I found this researcher who made me realize it and, wow, it was so... amazing! Then I was in this absurd, wonderful place, where everything was color, sound and fragrance."

"Roule’s Celebration of Colors."

"That's the one!" Lelx confirmed. "You should’ve been there, it was impressive. I’d never seen so many colors together and it was like... like hearing a hundred orchestras all at the same time! Seeing thousands of paintings! I walked on color, inside color and I created it! Then, I still haven't figured out how, but I think I accidentally fell into a portal and found myself in this dark cave, at night, with these guys doing a ritual before sleeping." His eye shone. "It was... different. I had never seen a ritual before. I knew nothing about Gods or reincarnation."

The woman kept looking and listening to his words, with quiet interest. Lelx's eye moved behind her, lingering on the huge tapestries on the wall. All showed the same image: a creature of paper and tea, with thin legs, a long tail, and a large oval head, with strange feathered appendages that seemed to float right before him. In the depths of the creature’s little black eyes, Lelx thought he saw again the glow points widen and become Dimensions.

"Axolotl."

"Yes," the Woman answered.

Lelx flinched: he had not realized he talked out loud.

"You recognized him," she continued.

"Do you believe in him, too?"

She just gave him a mysterious smile. Then she raised her cup and took a sip of tea: Lelx did the same.

"You've seen a lot, in such a short time," the Woman spoke again.

"That's what I like to do." Lelx winked at her. "I love seeing new things. You would like it too if you didn't already have a nice, big house where you can do whatever you want and portals that open up in the living room."

"Even if you were in my place, you wouldn’t stay at home," she answered. "You are not made for just one place."

"Do you blame me?" Lelx shrugged, with his best sly smile. "I just want some freedom."

"You hate the cage," she replied, "But it’ll be in a cage, that you will spend most of your life."

"Pfff." Lelx rolled his eye. "After seeing all of this? Don't even think about it.”

"It won’t be a choice." The Woman raised the cup. " But one day you’ll get out of it and you will be similar to a God."

Lelx chuckled.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, interested.

"You will be able to do great things," she added in a serious voice, staring at him with all seven eyes. "You can change the Multiverse. And you will. You will bring your colors in the Third Dimension."

Lelx raised his eyebrow.

"And a star will be your key to enter it.”

The eyebrow rose even more.

"A star," he repeated.

The Woman in purple looked at him, without a smile, the cup of tea still in her hands. Lelx looked down at his cup, placed it on the saucer, and laughed.

"You're the strangest Woman I've met so far!" He exclaimed, "But you're funny! So, Miss Purple, what are you? Some kind of genius? Do you see the future? It seems that you already know everything about me, so let's talk a little about you."

She gave him that kind and distant smile again.

"I have a sad fate, Lelx Yipnon," she replied, modestly. "I am destined to be only an instrument in the hands of fate, to let the thread of time flow as it was established."

"Established by whom?"

"By the Guardian."

Lelx glanced at the Axolotl and brought his gaze back to her: the Woman was smiling.

“He’s the one who sets the rules?"

"And the fate of everyone."

Lelx raised his eyebrow, this time in a defiant tone.

"Mine too?"

"Even yours."

Her eyes were staring at him, intense and deep. Lelx shifted on the chair.

"Do you know my fate?"

The smile widened.

"I know you are destined to do great things," she said. "That mediocrity will never be part of you and that you don’t belong to your limited Universe." Her eyes cooled, they became icy purple blade tips. "In your future, there is creation and destruction. Thousands will know your name and will bow down to you. You will not die as a merchant in the Plane."

Lelx straightened up. That bud of awareness, born inside him during the days with Rìem, expanded and filled every part of him, making him feel full of life, of fire, of energy.

Unique in the whole Multiverse.

Destined for great things.

"I like the way you think."

"It’s not my thought." In the Woman's tone, Lelx felt a hint of sadness. "That’s what it will be."

The sound of swirling wind diverted his attention away from the Woman. Lelx turned and saw a portal appearing out of nowhere, a whirling blue in the peaceful melody.

"It looks like you have visitors."

"They’re not for me," she said.

Lelx turned, a question already on the tip of his tongue. Before he could give it a voice, two huge hands grabbed him, pulling him heavily off the chair. He did not even have time to talk, that the two newly arrived took him away.

Beyond the portal, there was not a room, nor a party, nor a cave.

There was a white space with invisible borders, sour on his tongue and with an earthy smell. And that infinite space was occupied by the biggest creature he had ever seen.

It was a giant with a huge pink head marked by a blue hourglass, two small eyes, one mouth, two plump arms and a pink bust, stuck in a semi-sphere made of gray metal. Its black eyes, squeezed in the giant head, were both pointed at him and both were half-closed in a frowned expression.

"LELX YIPNON," the giant thundered, with a deep voice, "YOU’VE BEEN GOING AROUND DIMENSIONS WITHOUT PERMISSION."

"Why, now I need a permit to go around?" Lelx asked. "I saw a lot of people and nobody had a permit!"

"TRUE, IT'S NOT NECESSARY TO HAVE A PERMIT," the giant creature admitted. He raised a huge finger and pointed it at him "BUT YOU NEEDED IT."

Lelx raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"BECAUSE YOU’RE TWO-DIMENSIONAL."

"Do you have something against my two-dimensionality?" Lelx turned to look at the two creatures who held him: they were two black-robed giants with the same pink skin as the huge creature. "Hey, what’s his problem? Of all the creatures I spoke to, no one misjudged me because I was two-dimensional! And nobody asked me about this permit!"

"DON’T START COMPLAINING TO ME!"

"Why?" Lelx asked. “Who are you?”

"I’M THE TIME BABY."

"Time Baby? So you’re a child?" Lelx arched his eyebrow again. "Look, kid, I may be small, but I'm much older than you, so I think you should stop bothering me."

Time Baby squinted his eyes, his cheeks turned bright red.

"DON’T YOU DARE TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!"

"I'm bored." Lelx turned again to the two creatures who held him. "Hey, would you mind letting me go? I was chatting with a funny lady. By the way, it was very rude of you dragging me away from her living room: maybe she got offended..."

"YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO GO AROUND DIMENSIONS," the gigantic child thundered. " YOU BROKE A VERY SERIOUS RULE."

"Oh, come on!" Lelx rolled his eye. "What kind of rule is, "don't go around"? So everyone should be punished, because everyone goes around Dimensions! Including you, since I doubt this is YOUR Dimension!"

"Don't talk to Time Baby like that!" shouted out one of the guys that was holding him.

"I CAN GO EVERYWHERE BECAUSE I CONTROL TIME."

Lelx giggled. He looked at Time Baby from top to bottom.

"You?" he said with a mocking sneer.

"Lelx!"

The unexpected voice took both his and Time Baby's attention: everyone turned to the left, just in time to see Rìem emerge from a portal, accompanied by another one of those pink and black giants.

Riem ran to him, his arms outstretched.

"Oh, finally someone intelligent!" Lelx rolled his eye, relieved. "Tell him, I didn't do anything!"

Riem touched his arms, sides, hands, as if he was not sure Lelx was really there. He was trembling from head to toe and his eyes were wide with fear.

"Where were you?" Rìem’s voice was overflowing with concern. “I've been looking for you everywhere! I was terrified! We searched the whole station and you weren't anywhere! I was afraid you got shattered! I had to call the Time Police to find you!"

"It was just a small prank!" Lelx raised both hands in front of him. "I went through a portal and wanted to go back right away, I swear! But I took a different portal, that sent me to another place. Then I think I was a tiny bit overwhelmed by colors and I ended up somewhere else... anyway, I disappeared just for a couple of hours! No need to call the army!"

Rìem stared at him with wide eyes, shocked.

"A couple of hours?" He stuttered. “Lelx, you disappeared for two whole days! I panicked!"

"Oh." Lelx looked away, uncomfortable. "Uhm. So time doesn’t flow the same way from one Dimension to another..."

“THIS IS WHY YOUR PROTÉGÉ HAD TO STAY SAFE!" thundered the giant Time Baby.

"Forgive me, my Lord.” Rìem took a step forward and bowed to the gigantic baby. “Lelx didn't know about the rules. I take full responsibility for all the problems he caused."

"IT HAS BEEN VERY DANGEROUS TO LET A TWO-DIMENSIONAL BEING ROAM AROUND THE THIRD DIMENSION."

"I understand, my Lord," Rìem replied, with downcast eyes. "It’ll never happen again."

"YES, I REMEMBER HEARING THESE EXACT SAME WORDS," was the ironic reply. "YEAR ONE THOUSAND. YOUR GREAT-GREAT-GREAT GRANDFATHER, IF I’M NOT WRONG. YOU SPHERES OF THE BERN FAMILY SEEM TO ENJOY PICKING UP CREATURES FROM YOUR MINOR DIMENSION, THOUGH.”

Rìem shifted awkwardly.

"HIS DIMENSION IS UNDER YOUR JURISDICTION AND IT’S YOUR DUTY TO SECURE IT," Time Baby continued. "NOT TO EXPOSE ITS DELICATE INHABITANTS TO THE RISKS OF THREE-DIMENSIONALITY."

"Wait, what?!" Lelx’ gaze shifted from the giant Time Baby to Rìem. "Is my Dimension under your jurisdiction?"

Riem did not answer, his eyes down on the ground. That silence pierced Lelx from side to side, awakening fiery anger inside him. He grabbed the Sphere’s arms and shook him.

"Answer me!"

"I should’ve told you right away, Lelx." Rìem raised his gaze: his eyes were wet with concern. "Your Dimension was born inside mine. We Shape from the Solid protect your world, because its structure is so delicate, that a single change of pressure would be enough to break it."

"AND YOU TWO-DIMENSIONAL CREATURES ARE AMONG THE MOST FRAGILE OF THE MULTIVERSE," added Time Baby. "THIS IS WHY YOU MUST BE PROTECTED IN YOUR DIMENSION AND NOT ROAM AROUND WITHOUT CONTROL."

Rìem looked down again, embarrassed. Lelx felt the anger increase and he tugged at the arm of the Sphere again.

"So what am I?" he asked, bitter. "Your toy? A doll, to whom you could teach words? A way to entertain yourself, when you’re bored? Answer me!"

"Lelx..." Rìem sighed, raising his arms. "Please..."

"THAT’S ENOUGH," Time Baby intervened. "FOR THIS TIME, I’LL TURN A BLIND EYE TO ALL OF THIS." He pointed a finger at Lelx. "BUT HE HAS TO COME BACK TO HIS DIMENSION AND STAY IN."

"WHAT?!" Lelx yelled. "Don't even think about it! I'm not going anywhere!"

"Lelx, please," Rìem repeated. His eyes were full of sadness. “We both knew you couldn't stay here forever.”

Shock froze him on the spot, anger burned his insides.

"So your idea has always been this?" He asked, caught between fury and shock. "To show me all of this, then send me back to the gray where I lived?"

Rìem's eyes trembled. The words on the blackboard came back before their eyes. Gray: no sound, no taste, no smell. Only rough consistency.

The Sphere looked away, unable to bear Lelx’ gaze any longer. Anger took over again, it dispersed the shock, and Lelx shook the Sphere once more.

"Look at me!" He screamed. "You brought me here, you showed me all of this and now you want to send me home? Was that your idea?"

"Your shape’s too fragile!" Rìem snapped, with a broken voice. "You can't endure the three dimensions for too long! You've already been here for much more time than advised: another year and you could go blind! Or your shape could collapse under the weight of gravity!"

"But nothing happened!" Lelx yelled. "I'm fine! You don't know what could happen in a year! I’ve adapted well so far, my shape could do it too!"

"It has already happened!" Rìem trembled. "My great-great-great grandfather picked up a Square, who almost died because of gravity. And he was a Square, so he had a whole side on top, to distribute the gravitational weight." He raised a hand towards him. "You only have one angle!"

"So what?" Lelx snapped back. "Maybe it’ll work better! Maybe I'll handle it! You don’t know for sure, I’m the first Triangle you pick up!"

Rìem shut his eyes and shook his shape in denial.

"I won't put your life at risk just to find out."

A tremor ran through his shape, from top to toe. Rìem’s voice was iron, unmovable, the tone of a final decision. Lelx grabbed Rìem’s arms one more time.

"You can't send me home." Even the voice trembled and Lelx tightened his grip on the Sphere. "Don’t do it, Rìem. I exceeded your expectations. I'm special. I can do it."

He could not let Rìem go away. Rìem could not let him go away.

Riem looked at him, with sad resignation.

"I'm sorry, Lelx."

“I’M PROCEEDING.” Time Baby raised a hand.

A rush of panic filled his shape and Lelx fell to his knees, clinging to Rìem with all his strength, trying to overcome the screams that filled his mind, echoing around him, choking his own voice.

"Don't let him do it!" He screamed. "Don't lock me up again! You can't show me all of this and then send me home! I don’t want to go back home! I want to stay here! I WANT TO STAY HERE!”

Something wrapped around his shape and break him away from Rìem, with a tear that echoed within his shape and in his mind. He was thrown backwards, in the blinding white, breathing in his breaths.

He would be dead. But he could not die, not after seeing all of that. Not after listening, feeling, tasting, smelling. Not after taking the fruits of knowledge. He was too special, too different, too unique.

And then, all of a sudden, he was thrown down headlong, with so much strength to feel his skin being ripped off, to feel his eye as if it wanted to escape from its cavity. He closed his eyelids and tightened his arms against his shape, trying to scream in the scream of the fall, as the world rushed away from beneath him, from his hands, while everything broke, his shape broke, his mind broke.

When Lelx opened his eye, he was again a common Equilateral Triangle, lying on the ground in the gray of his room, under a gray ceiling, in a gray world.

And he screamed.

Chapter Text

ACT II - RÌEM

CHAPTER 9

The first few hours were confusion and pain.

His mother rushed in first, slammed the door and jumped on him. She hugged him tightly, her tears running down his shape, screaming almost as much as he did.

"LELX! MY SON! MY DEAR! LELX!"

His father was the second to run in the room: he squeezed them both in a tight embrace, his tears mixed with his mother’s, wet on his shape.

"What happened to you? Where were you? We've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Lelx, where were you? I've been looking for you everywhere!"

The echo of Riem's words made him scream even louder, his hands pressed to the eye. It hurt, it hurt too much. He wanted to pull it out, he wanted to dig with his fingernails into his own shape and pull out the thing that was screaming and struggling inside.

There were no colors. There were no stars. There were no dimensions.

There was nothing.

"My dear, my child..."

"Don't worry, son, you're home now."

Behind his closed eyelids, Rìem looked away, indulging the sentence. Agreeing to send him back to the gray.

"HIS DIMENSION IS UNDER YOUR JURISDICTION."

“We both knew you couldn't stay here forever.”

He screamed louder, strong enough to pierce the flat surface of his world, enough for the whole Solid to hear him, for Rìem to hear him.

IT'S YOUR FAULT! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! IT'S ONLY YOUR FAULT! YOU COULD’VE OPPOSED TO IT! YOU COULD’VE DONE ANYTHING! DON'T LET ME ROT HERE!

"It's all right, son."

"My dear…"

His parents' empty words were an endless dirge, his mother's tears were wet, a feeling he had never known how to name. But now he knew what name it had, now he knew what sound it had.

He had seen the Multiverse. He had touched, tasted, smelled, and listened to the Third Dimension singing for him. He had seen so much and there was even more to see. He still had unexplored worlds to visit. He still had hundreds of thousands of creatures to see and know! There were still thousands of colors to taste, of mathematical theories to discover! He still had to see the stars explode! He still had to join other parties! He still had to learn so many languages!

"Now you're home, you're safe."

"My sweetie, my child, my darling..."

The anger in the center of his shape rolled up on itself, wrapped around his organs, made him scream even louder, broke his mind into even smaller fragments. How dare they lock him up there! How dare they treat him like that!

I'M DIFFERENT! I’M SPECIAL! I'M UNIQUE!

Lelx screamed, screamed until he lost his voice and scratched all his shape until screams became hoarse shrieks. He pushed aside the opaque shapes of his parents, pushed away the shadows of their arms. Nothing was clear, everything was flat, everything hurt his eye and pierced his awakened senses. He pressed his hands on the eye and screamed again, with a faint breath left.

"IT HURTS!"

Once his breath was over, tears were all that was left.

He opened his eye again after years and prayed to be in the Third Dimension. But he was still in his gray room, trapped in his gray world.

He tried to scream, but he did not have any strength left. He lay on his bed, unable to move. His limbs were numb, his senses were dull. There were no stimuli, there was no news, there were no colors, there was nothing. It was gray. It was a cage.

"You hate the cage. But it will be in a cage, that you will spend most of your life."

Miss Purple had been right.

He looked to the left: his mother was dozing off in a chair next to his bed, her hand resting on Lelx's. He tried to slide his hand away from under her own and his mother winced, her eyelids lifted and her pupil pointed at him.

"Lelx." She immediately got up and approached. She raised a hand to stroke him over the eye. "How do you feel?"

Her voice was too high. Why did she always have to speak so loudly? Women did not need to raise their voices in the Multiverse. No use in doing it, when everyone else could see your extremities and no one risked getting pierced by them.

He looked at his mother. Her eye was sharp, wet, bright. The researcher Leban also had bright eyes, framed by blue hair. Miss Purple had an intense and piercing gaze, which could see beyond.

"You were always right," he said, in a faint voice.

His mother blinked, caught off guard.

"About what, darling?" She asked, gently stroking his shape.

"About behavior," he replied. "It’s not Configuration that determines an individual. His choices are."

His mother kept looking at him, blinking. Has she not heard? He has not got his voice back yet. Lelx tried to pull himself up, but his mother pushed him back down.

"No," he whispered, out of breath, "No.”

His mother had to understand. She had to understand that she was right. That they were all wrong there. That there was a colossal Dimension out there and seven more beyond that one.

"You have to rest, darling," she said to him instead, with a sweet, caring tone. "Try to sleep.”

When he opened his eyes again, he did not expect to see his sisters.

The younger one sat in a chair, her feet did not reach the ground. The elder was standing next to her and emitted a low Peace Cry. She was wearing a brooch: a beautifully detailed jewel, made of silent, tasteless gray.

"It would be more beautiful pink and green," he said.

His sister looked down at the brooch. Then she looked at him.

"What?"

"Your brooch.”

The little sister leaned forward to look. She was holding a triangle-shaped doll.

"And that would be nicer red."

The little sister looked at her toy, then moved on to look at him, at the older sister, and again at the doll.

"What’s "red"?"

"Red is a color," Lelx answered. "A color different from white, gray and black. It’s black, but more intense and vibrant. It's warm and soft, it fills your mouth. It has the texture of silk. And it has deep music."

His sisters looked at each other.

"What’s “music”?" asked the younger.

It was pointless speaking to her, she was too young to understand. Lelx shifted his gaze to his other sister.

"There’s so much to see, out of this Dimension," he said. “Math does not end with width and length. There is also height and, by extending in height, there are many other Shapes. Some are regular, but there are thousands of Irregular. I met a Sphere, which..."

His sister began to blink faster, she took a step back. Her eye showed only utter confusion.

"Wesqny." Lelx raised himself on one arm. "Math. Formulas. There aren’t just length and breadth. There’s also height. I can show it to you."

His sister still had that confused expression. All right, maybe the little one did not understand anything. But Wesqny was one year older than him, she could not fail to understand. There were Women in the Multiverse who understood everything right off the bat. And she was his sister, they shared the same blood! She could not be so stupid to not understand.

"Wesqny," he called her again, speaking as calmly as possible. "Everything’s fine. Follow my lead: a Triangle, extending in height, becomes a Tetrahedron. It is made by four Triangles, that together make one Shape. It’s the same for all Shapes. I know, because I've seen them. I saw their world and it's huge. There are thousands of places and things to see."

"Dad..." Wesqny called, with a trembling voice.

"This isn’t the only world," Lelx continued, "This is a microscopic world. A fragment. A Plane. There are worlds out there that are thousands of times bigger than ours."

"Dad…"

"We’re not the only existing creatures. There are creatures ten times bigger than us and much more intelligent."

"Da..."

Lelx grabbed her arm and stared into her eye. His sister, on the other hand, lowered her gaze to the ground.

"Look at me," he said. "Look at me. I met a Woman who ran an entire scientific research center. A Woman who studied the structure of the Multiverse. I saw Women and creatures dancing together and creating color." He touched her brooch. "Color that is not gray, white, or black, but is different. It’s more."

"Wesqny."

Lelx flinched and turned to the door: his father had just entered the room. Wesqny's arm slipped from his grip and, when Lelx turned to look at her, she had shifted aside and she had lowered her gaze again.

Irritation stung his shape. Why did she look down so much? What was so interesting about the ground? She had to look up at them. Leban had looked him straight in the eye. Miss Purple had never stopped watching him, from the first moment he had appeared in her living room.

"Lelx." His father approached. "You’re awake."

"Yes." Lelx sat down. "I need to talk to you."

Surely his father would understand. It was his father who taught him the first notions of mathematics when he was still a small Shape and it was always his father who instructed him on how to be a good merchant. His father was fond of his boring rules, but he was not dumb: in front of the incontrovertible truth of his facts, he would have understood everything.

"Of course," his father replied. The younger sister gave him her chair and his father moved it closer to the bed. Wesqny grabbed the little one’s hand and they left the room together.

"Hey, wai..." Lelx tried to speak.

"Is there a problem?" asked his father.

"Why are they leaving?" He asked, raising a hand towards the door. "They could’ve stayed."

"Women have other duties to attend to."

Irritation stung him again. What other duties could have been more interesting and important than what he had to say? His words would have changed the world!

His father sat down and Lelx focused on him.

"I’ve been away," he said. "In another Dimension, with a Sphere."

His father frowned.

"With who?"

"A Sphere." Lelx moved his hands in mid-air, trying to display its shape. "It’s a three-dimensional being, made of infinite Circles that develop in height. His name’s Rìem. He showed me his world, his writing, and his colors." He leaned towards his father. "Dad, colors. They’re the most wonderful thing ever." He raised his hands in front of him. "I found out I’m a synesthete. Do you remember when I was four and I told you that white was breathing too hard? I was feeling its sound and flavor. My senses were all reacting together. You can only see white, but I can feel its taste, sound, smell, and texture."

He spread his arms.

"And white’s not the only one!" He continued. "There are many other tones! Do you ever feel like the shop is too dull, always with the same shades of gray?" He laughed. "Imagine how it would be, with hundreds of thousands of different shades! All the things that we can sell! We would do the best deals! Wait, I think some color is still on me..." He looked at his shape, tried to look at the back, in the joints of arms and legs, behind the knees, between the fingers, at the corners...

"Lelx." His father interrupted his spasmodic search. "It's all right. You need to rest a little longer."

"I'm fine, I rested enough." Lelx lowered his legs and moved to get out of bed. His father stopped him.

"You’re still very tired," he insisted, in a gentle voice. "You’re still dreaming. You have to sleep."

"Dreaming?" Lelx looked his father straight in the eye, a terrible suspect making its way inside him. "Do you think I’m making this up?"

His father just looked at him, his hands still on Lelx’ arms.

"Get some rest," he insisted.

Irritation exploded, with a fiery blaze. Lelx grabbed his father's wrists.

"I’m not dreaming and I’m not making this up!" He insisted, louder. "You have to believe me... the paper!" He frantically felt his shape. "The paper with the Dimensions!"

No luck: the sheet he had taken from Leban's desk was gone. Heck, where could he have lost it? In Roule, amid all those colors? Or while he was being sent back into the Plane?

"Lelx..." his father tried again to stop him.

"Give me a sheet and a pen," he ordered instead, swatting away his hands. "I will prove to you that the Third Dimension exists!"

His father stared at him, with a worried expression. Then he sighed, got up, and went to the desk to get what he asked for.

"Now look," Lelx blurted out, snatching pen and paper from his hand. "This is a Sphere." He tried to draw it at best. "This is the formula for calculating the perimeter. And this..." he scribbled, “Is the formula for the volume. Since we’re talking about three dimensions, there’s no area, but volume. The same goes for the Triangles in the Third Dimension, called Tetrahedrons. And Squares in three dimensions, namely Cubes." He kept writing. "And these are all the relative formulas of perimeter and volume..."

The sheet was grabbed out of his fingers and his father folded it over and over again.

"Lelx, all of this is crazy." His eye was sad and tormented. "It doesn't make sense."

"It does!" He clung to his father’s arms. "Read! Look! They’re all correct formulas!"

"They don't make any sense..."

"They do!" he replied. "Read them again! Look at the formulas! Look at the drawings!"

"It's just scribbling."

"It's not!" he replied. "I’m just not good at drawing and it’s difficult to draw on a paper something that exists in three dimensions! But look closely and make an effort: if you do it, you can see them!"

His father put a hand on his arm.

"Get some rest, Lelx" he insisted. "When you’ll feel better, you can tell us where you've been and what happened to you."

"I just told you!"

"You’re very confused." his father made him lie down on the bed. "Try getting some sleep, okay? Your mother will come with dinner later."

"Dad, look at the formulas."

"Get some rest." his father left him on the bed and went to the door. On his way out, Lelx heard the sound of paper being torn into pieces.

As his father said, his mother came back with dinner. Once he would have been overjoyed to see her coming with a tray and letting him eat in bed: now dinner seemed only a dull, gray mix.

His mother stroked him over the eye again, fluffed his pillow, folded the sheets around his legs. Lelx kicked them away.

"I'm not sick."

Patiently, his mother covered him again.

"Get some rest, my dear."

"I'm tired of resting!" he grabbed the sheets and tossed them. "I'm not sick, I told you!"

His mother's eye trembled, wet.

"It’s fine, darling." She stretched out her hand again to caress him. "That’s fine, my little one. Eat something, please.”

Lelx looked down at the food.

"I’ll eat if you sit and listen to me." He suggested. "Deal?"

His mother's eye folded into a wet smile.

"Anything you want, my darling." She pulled the chair closer and sat down next to him, still looking at him with that warm smile.

Lelx took a bite.

"I’ve been in another Dimension," he said "I know Dad doesn't believe me, but you have to. It's true."

"What’s a Dimension, my dear?"

The next bite fell from his hand.

"Y... you don't know what a Dimension is?"

His mother lowered her eye.

"Forgive me, my dear." She tried to get up.

"No, no." Lelx stopped her "Wait. I’ll tell you. Watch me. Do you see my sides? The distance from my top to the base is a Dimension, called length. Do you remember when you said I was growing up? It's because I was growing in length. While the distance from one corner to the other is called width. Second Dimension. Are you with me?"

"I don't know, my dear..." his mother's brow was furrowed, while she was trying to understand his words.

She could understand me!

"Then there’s brightness," Lelx continued, motivated by that possibility. "When you see me, you see my brightness, am I right?"

"Uhm... yes..."

"That’s a Dimension too," he explained. "Here is so small we cannot calculate it. But, in the Third Dimension, brightness is much bigger and it’s possible to calculate it." He grabbed her hand. "Imagine a sheet of paper that moves in the brightness."

"I can't..."

"Try it," he urged her, "Try it. You can do it."

"I’m sorry, dear." his mother took his hand in hers and brought it to her shape. "I can't."

"Try harder!" He insisted. "I know it's a bit difficult, but you can do it!"

"Please eat something, my dear." His mother stood up. "I have to go back to the kitchen."

"Who cares about the kitchen!" He grabbed her with both hands. "This is much more important! Use your intelligence, think!"

"Those are things I cannot understand, my dear."

"Of course you can!" He insisted. "I met Women who could do anything! Nobody said "I can't understand"! Even when they didn't understand, they studied to understand more!"

His mother put her hands on Lelx's.

"I have to go back to the kitchen, my darling." She leaned to kiss him over the eye. "Get some rest. You will get well soon."

Lelx looked at her without words, while she moved away from his hands, lowered her eye again and left.

Days were all the same. Or maybe it was always the same day, with hours that lasted years, infinitely long in the gray, infinitely flat and monotonous.

Roule’s joyful confusion, its colors and music were all gone. Above him, Lelx did not see the brown sugary ceiling of Rìem's library. The night was not lit by the pink flames and red smoke of the interdimensional travelers’ fire. The house did not resound with any music, because the silence of gray ruled that world.

His sister Wesqny came back to see him again only once, bringing him lunch or dinner. He asked her to stay and listen to him: she hesitated for a second, then lowered her eye and told him she could not.

"I have to go back to mom, to the kitchen," she said. "I have my Woman’s duties to attend to."

Woman’s duties do not exist, he replied. In the Multiverse, he had seen Women do whatever they wanted. Even there, in the Plane, he had seen Shapes doing whatever they wanted. Why did she have these oh-so-important "Woman’s duties", instead?

"All Women have tasks to do, that are different from ours," his father replied, in the same tone he had used with him a lifetime ago. "Women are different."

"Women are the same!" Lelx snapped. "I met Women who were even smarter than you and me! Why does everyone here insist on treating them like idiots?"

For a moment, it seemed his father wanted to stand up and argue with him. Instead, he let out a deep sigh and tapped him on the hand.

"That’s fine, Lelx," he admitted, in a more conciliatory tone. "That’s fine."

Lelx sighed too and laid down again. He looked at the ceiling.

"I miss it so much," he admitted. "I want to see the stars again. I want to see colors.”

"All right, Lelx." His father brought the meal closer to him. "But eat something now."

He looked at his father.

"I don't like anything anymore," he said. "I tasted music and colors. I tried things I had never seen."

"Do you remember anything in particular? Any strange substance?"

Lelx moved a hand in midair, trying to shape it. He let his arm drop.

"There were many. Too many." He pushed aside the plate. "This is less than a shadow, compared to what that was."

"Your mother will cook something better."

“She can’t make it better," he answered, sulking. "She has no colors, no sounds. There is no music here."

"Mu... music?"

"Sounds," he said. "Melodies. Musical instruments." He jumped up. "There’s nothing in this lousy world!"

His father made him lie down again, whispering white words.

"It’s all right, Lelx, it's all right," he repeated, like a lullaby. "You'll be better soon."

It was a lie. He would not have been better, by staying there.

After daysmonthsyears, his father called a doctor to visit him. There was no point in repeating to him he was fine: the doctor wanted to do a complete check-up.

"Your eye’s watering."

"I told you," said Lelx, for the third time. He was pretty tired of always repeating the same things to everyone. "I tried to see in three dimensions. While here there’s only brightness, in the Third Dimension you see the whole Shape coming towards you. You see it in its entirety, from top to base, including corners. And, since the light slides over them, there are shadows, there is perspective and, of course, there are colors."

The doctor nodded seriously, continuing his analysis. He checked Lelx’ mouth, corners, surface and back. He took notes.

"As you can see, I'm perfectly fine." Lelx sat down again on the bed and crossed his legs. "Now, if you want to, will you let me explain where I've been?"

"Of course," the Pentagon raised a hand towards him, in a kind gesture. "Please, go ahead."

Lelx glared at his parents: they were standing on the other side of the room, his father straight as ever, his mother leaning on the arm he held out to her, a trembling Peace Cry to announce her presence.

"As I already said to them," he began, "I was taken from this Dimension and brought into the Third by a Sphere. The Sphere is a solid geometric shape of the Third Dimension, made by an infinite number of overlapping Circles, that extend in height and shrink at the top and at the base, until they close the shape..."

The pen fell from the doctor’s hand, his eye widened. He turned to look at his parents: his father closes his eyelid once, a sign of assent. His mother let out a small sob.

The Pentagon cleared his throat, picked up the pen and placed it back on the paper.

"Continue," he invited him.

"As I said." Lelx cleared his throat. "The Sphere showed me our world and made me understand that it extends only in two dimensions. While in the world from which he came, there is a third dimension. And there are even worlds with four, five, six and many more Dimensions out there!" He looked again at his parents. "They don't believe me. They think I'm making this all up and that I’ve gone crazy."

His mother sobbed louder.

"Of course not," the doctor agreed, writing furiously. "But I still recommend you to rest. It will help you recover from your… experience."

His parents left the room. The doctor gave him two other medicines to be taken, suggested he should not skip any meals and left after them. As soon as the door was closed, Lelx threw the blankets away and reached the door to eavesdrop.

"... a form of advanced delirium," the doctor was saying. "How long has this been going on?"

"Two months." His father’s voice was broken and tired, his voice filled with sadness. "We... we thought we could resist. If we got along his way, he would’ve improved."

His mother was sobbing in a low tone.

"But we can't take it anymore," his father continued. "My wife’s about to collapse and I don't know what to do anymore. We have a daughter who’s engaged and will soon get married, a smaller daughter and a newborn son to grow up. Doctor, please, help us."

A sound of flipped pages.

"I’ll be honest, Mr. Yipnon," the doctor replied. “Indulging Lelx's delusions only harms you and your other children. You can see it by yourself: the impact on your family is too negative. And I highly doubt your son will ever fully recover."

Again the sound of paper, interspersed with his mother’s hushed cry.

"Doctor." His father had a firmer tone. "If it’s possible to intercede with the Circles..."

"I don't think the Circles are interested in a similar case."

"But he’s very young," his father insisted, "And in perfect health. Please, doctor: present the case to the Circles. If just one of them could come here and talk to Lelx, he will surely find a way to heal him."

The doctor kept flipping through the pages.

"The Circles are always very busy..."

"Please," his father continued, "I'm ready to pay. If one of our High Circles speaks to him and, in the end, he too declares that the best choice is execution, I won’t complain anymore."

The two Shapes fell silent, the stillness filled by his mother’s crying, which had grown stronger.

"I will present this case to the Circles." was the doctor's reply.

His words were followed by a sigh of relief and even his mother's weeping sounded a little happier.

"Oh thank you, thank you so much!" She cried.

"Thank you very much, doctor," his father's tone was more relieved than ever. "Thank you for everything."

The Circle came two days later, accompanied by two Isosceles guards and a twenty-five-sided Polygon, which circled him, like a planet around its star.

What foolish behavior. In the Solid, there were Shapes with an even higher rank than Rìem, despite the fact he was born Sphere.

“What matters is what you want to do, what you like. Your desires.”

The Polygon demanded a chair for the Circle and his mother rushed over, carrying the velvet chair his father had in the study, the padding made of a sad gray. Now that Lelx knew which tone best suited that texture, seeing it gray hurt his eye.

"Lelx Yipnon." The Circle put his hands on the armrests and looked at him from top to base. He did not have the finicky expression of the Polygon, but he looked quite annoyed for having bothered to get there. "They told me a very... peculiar story about you. You've been out of town for a whole year, right?"

"Yes," he answered, pouting.

"Do you want to tell me where you've been?"

"So you can call me crazy too?"

He saw his father stiffen, standing at the far end of the room. The Polygon puffed up, outraged. The Circle simply raised a hand, blocking the anger of the Polygon in the bud.

"If you’re crazy or not, I will be the one to establish it, I and I alone," he answered, with a severe voice. "Now, answer my question."

Lelx took a deep breath. Circles were the smartest Shapes in his world, so if someone had enough brain to understand his talk about the Third Dimension, it could only be one of them. He was not facing the Chief Circle, but that Circle has proven himself to be serious, aware and above the parties. If there was still a microscopic chance that someone, in his whole, lousy Dimension understood him, that chance was sitting in front of him.

"All right." Lelx loosened his arms and moved to the edge of the bed. "Listen up: the Dimension in which we live is not the only one. Beyond the borders of our world, there’s a much larger one, called "Solid" in which there are three Dimensions: in fact, breadth and length aren’t the only two existing Dimensions, but there’s also a third Dimension called "height", which corresponds to our brightness. The Shapes of the Solid know that we exist..." He clenched his fists. "They know about our Dimension and they protect it, because worlds that are part of the Second Dimension, like ours, are very rare and delicate."

He turned his gaze to his father, on the opposite side of the room.

"Our Universe is part of those of the Second Dimension. But there are even smaller Universes, which are part of the First Dimension. And, even further down, there are point Universes, embryos born in the Multiverse: throughout millennia, these point Universes extend, by acquiring a First Dimension that makes them become lines. From the First, they will then move onto the Second Dimension, then onto the Third, and so on." He swallowed. "We know these point Universes, because every now and then they appear in our world. We call them "glow points"."

"For the love of Circles, Lelx..." his father began, while putting a hand over his eye, in an exasperated gesture.

"It's the truth, damn it!" Lelx yelled, pointing a finger at him. “Those beautiful things you buy, that you don't know where they come from, that are so rare, are embryos of Universes! This is why they’re so bright, because they have a whole universe inside them! Keeping them here means blocking them in their embryonic state and preventing them from becoming real universes, by ascending into higher Dimensions!"

The Circle raised a hand to silence him.

"Let's go back to the main speech," he ordered, in a firm voice. "How did you get this information?"

"I spent one year living at the home of a Third Dimensional creature," he replied. "A Sphere, which welcomed and taught me everything I know. He showed me this Dimension and then his own."

A light flashed in the eye of the Circle, too fast for Lelx to recognize if it was fear or understanding.

"And what would this "Sphere" look like?"

"It’s composed of a series of overlapping Circles, which become more and more narrow at the top and the base."

Another flash passed in the Circle’s eye. The Polygon rubbed under his eye, trying to picture that image.

"They’re Circles in length... I mean, not facing... I mean, they grow in height. Not north, though. Up. Above this world... uuurgh!" Lelx put his hands over the eye, frustrated. "Why aren't there the right words in this lousy Dimension?"

The Polygon raised his eyebrow. The Circle just blinked. Lelx tried to focus.

"It’s easier to describe these things in the Third Dimension," he explained. "You see them. Understanding height is easier too. At first, I had difficulties too, but then the Sphere showed me. And it was incredible."

"Incredible." the Circle repeated.

"I can try to explain, but the Sphere was..." he looked at his hand, remembering the amazement of the first time he had touched Rìem’s perimeter. "He was perfect. He didn't even have the slightest angle. He was more perfect than any Circle..."

The Polygon burned with rage again.

"How dare you!"

The Circle stood up, blocking that sudden outburst of anger.

"Mr. and Mrs. Yipnon," he announced, his eye fixed on Lelx. "I am sorry, but your son is a mythomaniac."

Lelx's eyes widened.

"What?!"

"He invented an absurd story about some "Third Dimension" that would be out there," he continued, "Thus reducing our world, which we know is unique and greater than everything, to less than a pin. Not satisfied, he also invented blasphemous beings who would be even better than the members of the sacred Circular Order."

Lelx froze on the spot, speechless with anger. The Circle turned to look at his parents.

"I will take your child into custody and bring him to trial, in front of the entire Order," he announced. "The Chief Circle will have the last word."

His father’s whole shape relaxed, his mother breathed a sigh of relief.

Lelx tried to get out of bed, but before he could do it, the Polygon snapped his fingers: the two Isosceles guards who were watching the door, reached Lelx, grabbed his arms and pushed him to the ground.

"Take him out," the Polygon ordered.

"What the... let me go!" Lelx put his foot down, pulled both arms with all his strength, trying to escape the steel grip of the two Isosceles. "I'm not crazy! Get off me!"

"Thank you very much." He heard his father thank the Circle, he saw him bend over and kiss his hand. His mother was already on her knees, crying tears of consolation.

"Are you all crazy?!" he yelled. "Help me! Stop them!"

The Polygon was the first one to get out of the door and the two Isosceles guards followed him, dragging Lelx out of his room. He struggled to free himself, clawed at his bed, at the door, at everything. He turned around, looking for his parents.

They were the last ones to leave, preceded by the Circle. Lelx met his gaze and, in that split second, he saw a blind, silent rage in his eye.

A flash of awareness froze him inside, his mind broke in half.

He knows I'm right.

"Y... you..."

"Your son’s very tired and disturbed," the Circle said, overlying Lelx's voice with his own. His eye narrowed into a sharp smile. "The Order will take care of him at best."

The Circles know I'm right!

Lelx trembled with anger and struggled even harder, trying to break free. He wanted to throw himself on that Circle, beat him up and wipe that gracious smile off his surface, force him to tell the truth, because that Circle knew the truth, he knew he wasn't lying, he already knew everything.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

His screams attracted the attention of the house servants: he saw them peeping from the rooms, looking at the scene that was taking place. He also saw the two dark silhouettes of his sisters appear from the kitchen.

"Everything’s fine, my dear," his mother intervened, trying to appease his screams with a conciliatory voice. "Everything’s fine."

"You’ll feel better," his father added "You’ll get better."

"I'm not crazy! " he repeated, fighting alone against the two Isosceles. "Stop them! They won't cure me! They don't want to cure me!"

"It'll be all right," his father insisted.

"Stop them!" He yelled again. "Trust me! I'm not crazy! You know that!"

"We’re doing it for you, my son," his father continued, still with that stupid relief in his tone, as if the Circles could really help him.

"Trust me!" he insisted. "Trust me! Stop them! I'm right! It's all true, I swear to you! I'm not crazy! I don't need to be cured!"

"You’ll get better." His mother’s hands were clenched, her eye wet with tears curved into a smile. "The High Circles will help you."

"I'm not crazy!"

His parents kept smiling, with those stupidly happy expressions, with those ignorant, mug looks, so impressed by the Circles’ lies. Anger rose inside him and he screamed louder.

"Leave me alone! I'm not crazy!"

"We’re doing this for you." His mother quivered and new tears came out from her eye.

"I won't put your life at risk just to find out."

The two guards had reached the doorstep: Lelx felt light hit his arms and pulled back, screaming.

"Do you know where the light comes from?"

"From a large sphere that revolves around our world."

"Mom! Dad! Please!" He insisted, with panic in his voice. " Please trust me! Believe me! Stop them!"

"You’ll be fine," his father replied, with that stupid, encouraging tone. "You’ll get better and feel better."

"Believe me, it's all true!"

His mother's smile faded and she leaned on his father, sobbing. His father looked away from him and surrounded his wife in his arms. He looked at the Circle and blinked his assent.

Something broke in the center of his anger, in the center of that furious creature that had been devouring his shape since his return. The image of his father overlapped the last image of Rìem, his silent resignation, while Time Baby raised his hand to send Lelx back home.

And now, he was being ignored again, while someone else took him away from his last shelter.

An arm surrounded his shape and Lelx was lifted. As soon as his feet were not on solid ground anymore, he screamed and anger exploded from the crack in his core: a red, all-encompassing fury, a blinding anger that broke the few fragments of hope that were holding his mind together, broke the few securities left, broke the world for the second time. He stormed with fists and kicks the Isosceles who grabbed him, screamed so much to hurt his throat with his own screams, screamed to be heard by those who had abandoned him.

The Circle was the last one to go out and closed the door, exiling him forever from what had been his family.

"Any family?"

"NOT ANYMORE."

Lawyer Kryptos Langley sat on the edge of the bed, his shape leaning forward, frozen and speechless. His mind swirled with details, names, and images so vivid that he could almost touch them - the chaotic party in Roule, the perfection of the Sphere, the heat of the fire in the dark cave, the ochre and pink living room.

He blinked: the four gray walls of a cell surrounded him. There was no bookcase filled with books, no city made of tones he would never see, no station crossed by unknown creatures. He touched his shape over the eye: he felt lightheaded and dizzy. How long had it been since that story began?

Lelx Yipnon sat still on the other side of the bed. He was silently waiting, his eye lit by the bright light of intelligence. The unspoken question lingered between them.

Do you believe me?

Kryptos opened his mouth. He closed it, opened it again, and closed it again. He swallowed. He looked around the walls of that prison, then returned his eye to the captive Equilateral, sitting in front of him. A synesthete who had visited the Third Dimension. A crazy mythomaniac who not even his own family had believed.

He opened his mouth again.

"I believe you."

END OF CHAPTER 9

END OF ACT II - RÌEM

Chapter Text

ACT III - AXOLOTL

CHAPTER 10

"Delicious lunch, Lydya." Martin slid a second portion of tart onto his plate and passed the tray to his wife, inviting her to take some. Ohixia helped herself a second portion too, then leaned over to feed little Fil, who kept nibbling on the edge of his bib.

"No no, my dear." She took the bib from his mouth and quickly replaced it with a spoonful of mashed potatoes, which Fil gladly accepted. As he licked his lips with the small tongue, Ohixia caressed him, looking at her son with reverence.

Lydya took a portion too and passed the tart to Kryptos: her eye was sparkling, bright and happy. Kryptos replied with a smile and took a slice of tart too. Eddie, seated between Lydya and his cousin, waited with his mouth open for mom to feed him.

"So, as I was saying," Martin kept talking, between mouthfuls, "It was hard evidence and all neighbors had testified in his favor, so clearly he would’ve won. At least it was a short cause and I came home before dinner."

"Lucky you," Kryptos agreed.

"I spent the whole evening, solving all the problems of Math Textbook volume one," Martin continued, his voice filled with happiness. "It’s been a long time since I relaxed and enjoyed myself like this. Now I’m ready to face all the math problems in the world!"

"Speaking of problems..." Kryptos looked down at his tart and started to cut it into smaller pieces. "I'm making progress with mine."

"Oh really?" Martin asked, interested. "So you found the right corollary?"

"I don't have to use a corollary, but lateral thinking." Kryptos looked up. "I need a new unit of measurement and I'm a little short of ideas." He ran my gaze across the table. "What would you use to calculate something?"

Three eyes focused on him. Ohixia blinked, puzzled. Lydya showed the same lack of understanding.

"Normally, we use meters and centimeters to calculate things," Kryptos explained, indicating his own lateral angles. "For example, from this angle to the other one, by using centimeters, I can calculate my width. But what if I want to use anything else, to calculate it?"

Martin chuckled.

"And what else?"

"I don't know, anything." Kryptos raised a forkful of tart. "Even this tart. How many slices do I need to line up from one angle to the other, to know my width?"

"Too many." Martin laughed, pulling out a laugh from the two Lines too. Kryptos joined them.

"Pretty clear, isn’t it?" He turned to the two Women. "What would you use, instead?"

Silence fell around the table. The two Lines raised their eye, Lydya drummed her fingers on the shape. Martin was thinking too, his brow furrowed in concentration, trying to find a unit of measure that was reasonable. Kryptos followed their every gesture by holding his breath, trying to keep a smile as natural as possible.

"How much rain?" Martin ventured. "How much rain does it take to cover you from one end to the other?"

"Interesting."

"Uhm..." Ohixia narrowed her eye. "The... quantity of your words?"

Martin laughed.

"But it's not a unit of measure!"

"That's the idea," Kryptos replied. He gave Ohixia an encouraging smile. "We could calculate all the words I say and use those to determine how wide I am."

"Then, there would be Shapes that are definitely too wide," Martin replied, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye.

"But also..." Kryptos looked around, searching for another example. "Forks. Or Eddie’s mouthfuls."

"Or the number of your steps." Martin joked while rolling his eye.

"The number of your coats?" Lydya tried.

"The number of your fingers!"

"The number of times Eddie calls you "dad"!"

"Daaaad!"

"That’s right, my little one." Kryptos gave a broad smile to his son, who enthusiastically clapped his hands. "Anything else?"

"The number of times you wake up in the morning."

"The number of your cases."

"Every time you repeat my name." Martin chuckled.

Lydya put her hand on his own.

"Your brightness," she said only.

Kryptos turned to look at her: her eye was clear like water and bright like hundreds of glow points. She stroked one of his sides, looking at him with an eye full of love.

"If I could collect your brightness, I would use that," Lydya said.

Kryptos looked at her, his eye wide-opened.

"Awww, so romantic!" Ohixia commented, with her tinkling voice.

"Someone is still in the honeymoon phase." Martin laughed.

Lydya turned to the guests and chuckled in a low voice, making herself small in embarrassment under her brother's thunderous laughter and sister-in-law's trilling chuckles.

Kryptos kept staring at his wife, breathless and with wide-open eye. Women were notoriously stupid. Women were unable to learn the basics of reading and math, let alone use lateral thinking.

Yet his wife, illiterate and ignorant like all Women, managed to have the intuition he got after three days, in just ten minutes.

"Women are the same! Why does everyone here insist on treating them like idiots?"

"This conversation is getting silly," Martin cut short. "Let’s talk about serious things, instead. I read a new problem yesterday and I want to see how long it takes you to solve it."

Once he entered the central library, Kryptos immediately aimed at the counter and showed his identification card to the Square that worked there. The Square looked up from the volume in front of him, took the card and transcribed his entry time.

"Welcome, attorney," he greeted him, holding out his card.

Kryptos blinked his assent, retrieved the document and walked among the high shelves.

He did not even know what he was looking for. Lelx Yipnon's words were repeating in his mind, the images he evoked during his long story recurred in every moment: the Sphere, the music, the colors, the different Dimensions. There were many themes, which spread into other branches and touched other ideas: brightness/height, the birth of universes, ten Dimensions, the jurisdiction of the Plane, Women. From where could his research start? Could he ever find even one of those themes, among math and geometry volumes?

He stopped between two shelves and crossed his arms. He had never thought of the central library as a place without books or themes. Still, he was always facing the same ones: mathematics, geometry, physics, law, medicine, business and history. He would have liked some books about behavior or theories that differed from the official ones.

Well, he had to start somewhere. And if mathematics and geometry were the least probable themes, perhaps history could have given him some more clues. Being a mostly discursive theme, maybe Kryptos would have found some hints of the other themes that interested him.

He slipped into the history area and pulled down one book after another, then he took them to an isolated table. He sat down and started leafing through them, searching through the recorded dates and events.

He would have taken anything. Any hint would have been good. Even just half of a sentence, enough to prove that his client had not made it all up. Even half of a line, to reassure himself that he was not believing in a madman, but in someone who still had a bit of sanity left.

Because he believed him, against any better judgment. He believed every single word that Lelx Yipnon had said and he had no idea why. Lelx had told him absurd things, which not even the craziest of his clients would have imagined, yet Kryptos believed everything.

So, there were just two possibilities: either he has finally gone mad after years of defending insane clients, or Lelx Yipnon was right.

And between the two, he did not know which idea frightened him the most.

He threw away one book after another, scrolling the lines with the tip of his finger.

"... Chromatistes..."

He stopped. "Chromatistes"? He did not remember that word. What was it related to? He went up a few lines, looking for something that would have explained it: the paragraph was about a rebellion, a protest rose among the lower classes, a very dangerous rampant fashion. He did not remember having studied anything like that in school.

"The wicked revolt of the Chromatistes marked a dark period in our history: a seditious Pentagon was the first to spread the dangerous fashion of altering the pure white of the sides, by proposing different tones depending on the social rank, then defined with the term “colors". The fashion of colors spread among the lower classes and attracted even some noble Polygon, unaware of the dangers that a possible Classification by Color could entail. Putting aside the ancient system of Sight Recognition, to switch to a distinction only by color meant not being able to trust anyone anymore, as it would have been very easy for a lower Shape like a Triangle to pass itself off as a Circle, simply by changing the hue of its sides."

Kryptos put his hand over the eye. He trembled as he kept reading.

"... it was the Chief Circle himself who intervened, putting an end to the senseless requests of the Chromatistes, with the public execution of the Pentagon that had started that madness."

It was absurd. It was impossible.

Lelx Yipnon had spoken of color in words full of veneration, touching his own hands and arms, as if he could still feel its softness. He had described it vividly, trying to show the different tones to Kryptos' eye, which had never seen colors other than white, black or gray. He had described its warmth, he had tried to replicate sounds that Kryptos had never imagined, he had presented him with a range of flavors and textures to touch.

"It's so difficult to explain something that doesn't exist here!"

But Lelx had been wrong. The color existed in the Plane. Someone had managed to create it.

Kryptos shivered more violently. Color was there, its creation was possible. Heck, it was under his eye, black on white, in a shrunken paragraph of a history book! The color was not the result of Lelx' imagination, it was something that everyone had once known and created, from the lowest Triangle to the many-sided Polygon. It was something present, real, that everyone had been able to see and experience.

"... it was the Chief Circle himself who intervened."

At least until the Circles had restored order.

Kryptos looked up from the book. If Shapes once knew about the existence of color in his world, did they also know the truth about brightness? Did his ancestors know that it was not a simple trait of Shapes, but a tiny proof of the existence of the Third Dimension? And in addition to that, what else did they know and had been lost?

"Why haven’t we heard anything about color, after the Chromatistes’ revolt?"

Lelx changed position on his bunk bed and crossed his legs. He had lost the arrogant expression he had the first day they met and, after having told Kryptos everything, he looked much more relaxed in his company.

"Isn't it obvious?" Lelx replied, in a bitter tone. "The Circles hid everything."

Kryptos blinked, surprised.

"The Circles?" he repeated. "But why should they? They watch over us..."

Lelx broke into a shrill, hysterical laugh.

"Watch over us!" he repeated. "They rule over us! The only thing they care about is to keep ruling and relegate us to the lower classes! They don't give a damn about our well-being!"

"Sssh!" Kryptos motioned to him to lower his voice and turned to the door. "If they hear you..."

"Who cares, they’ve already taken away my freedom and called me crazy! " he replied. He leaned towards Kryptos, his eye wide open. "Do you want to know what the truth is, Langley? Color no longer exists, because the only Shape that knows the technique to create it will never reveal it. And you know why it won't? Because that Shape is the Chief Circle himself."

"Wh... what?!"

"The Chief Circle is the only one who knows how to create color and, when he dies, he passes the formula to his successor." Lelx laughed, hysterically. "Don’t you find it ironic? They banned the color, erased its memory and prevented it from spreading, but they also managed to pass on the formula to create it! Do you know what the Great Circle said to me? That there’s a small factory, in the foundations of the Palace of the Order, where ten workers produce color for him and, to prevent the secret from being betrayed, those ten workers are killed and replaced every year."

Lelx pulled back, holding the shape with his hands, amid thunderous, hysterical laughter. Kryptos blinked and massaged himself over the eye in disbelief.

"It... it can't..."

"Oh, how ironic!" exclaimed Lelx with that shrill tone that scratched against everything. "They hate color so much, deny its existence, yet they create it for themselves and hide it from everyone else! Don't you find it deliciously HYPOCRITE?"

"Ssssh!" Kryptos tried again to calm him down.

"Relax, Langley, nobody hears me," Lelx replied, sitting down against the wall. "If they listened to everything I say, they would’ve killed me long ago."

"Ho... how do you know these things?" Kryptos asked him. "Did the Sphere tell you?"

"No." He crossed his arms "The Chief Circle told me."

"Is that... a joke?"

"Of course not." Lelx narrowed his eye into a sharp smile. "Did you really think that, considering how dangerous was what I was saying about the Third Dimension, the Chief Circle had not intervened himself?"

Kryptos lowered his hand.

"So that Circle who came to talk to you... he really brought your case before the Order."

Lelx's smile was replaced by a sulky expression.

"Not immediately." He looked away from Kryptos. "First he tried to deal with it by himself."

The two Isosceles soldiers dragged him in a small, empty room and pushed him down on his knees, while still holding his arms. Lelx wriggled again, tried to bite the hands that held him still, tried to get up and run away, but to no avail.

The Polygon entered immediately after and passed him, giving him only a disgusted look. The Circle was the last to enter the room, closed the door behind him and stopped in front of Lelx. His expression was no longer polite or aloof: his eye had become icy steel, sharp as glass sheets.

"You know everything," Lelx accused him.

The Circle simply took a step closer.

"Take back all your heresies," he ordered.

Lelx shivered in anger.

"You know it's all true!"

The Circle looked up at something behind him. He blinked only once, as a sign of assent.

Who is he...?

The thought was swept away by a fiery snap that hit his back. A burst of pain ran through his entire shape, so strong that it took all his breath away in a single cry. Lelx opened his eye wide and, before he even managed to say a single word, a second burst of pain hit him, with a snap that echoed endlessly against the gray walls.

"Take back your heresies," the Circle repeated.

Lelx gasped in pain, swaying in the grip of his captors, his eye wide open in shock. It was not possible that they had gone that far. It was not possible that the Circles had come to whip him just to keep him silent.

He looked up at the Circle, looked at that Shape that could have deceived inattentive eyes by pretending to be completely without angles, looked behind his cold, steel gaze.

"Am I really scaring you that much?" he asked, astonished.

A new lash made him scream again, Lelx narrowed his eye at the excruciating pain.

"How dare you," hissed the Polygon behind him, between one lash and the other, "Being... so... arrogant..."

"It’s typical of those who speak of the Third Dimension," the Circle replied. His voice was still clinical and unemotional, his gaze as cold as ice. "They think they’re better than everyone else."

Lelx heard a laugh rising from the center of his shape: the next whip brought it to his lips and his cry of pain mingled with the laugh.

"What’s so funny about that?" asked the Circle, his eye half-closed.

"That I don't think I'm better than everyone else," replied Lelx, his whole shape trembling with pain and laughter, "I am better than everyone else."

A new lash made him gasp.

"You insolent!" The Polygon yelled, accompanying each word with a whip. "Arrogant! Scum!"

Each whiplash make him laugh harder, each whip ignited his enjoyment.

"You’re both so scared of a Triangle, that the only idea you can think of is whipping me!" He exclaimed, alternating shouts with laughter.

The Circle came closer until he towered over him.

"Don't test me," he warned Lelx with an icy tone. "Gerhen can go on like this for an hour."

Lelx stretched forward as much as possible and looked at the Circle with fiery eye.

"Make it two," he challenged him.

The Circle blinked, looked away from him and focused on the Polygon.

"Gerhen," he said, "You heard him."

Having said that, he stood at the door of the room.

"Crym, bring me a chair and some tea." He turned to look at Lelx. "I'll be busy all afternoon."

At the end of the first hour, Lelx could no longer stand on his knees.

On the other hand, he never stopped laughing. He tightened his eye under the strongest blows and laughed, laughed madly, while the whip crackings repeated on him, around him, inside him. They had not weakened at all, on the contrary, they seemed even stronger than before.

It’s so ridiculous!

That thought made him laugh even more. That stupid Polygon was so afraid of him, that he was putting his whole self into whipping Lelx, as if that could make him stop being so deeply scared. How absurd it was!

Lelx opened his eyes and, behind the veil of amused tears, he saw the waving shape of the Circle: he sat in front of him and he had a full tea set next to his chair, with even a decorated placemat and pastries with the fork skewered over, as if at the end of an elegant dinner. That sight was so hilarious, so absurd, so stupid, that laughter overwhelmed Lelx, making him tremble under whiplashes.

It's all absurd!

He was there, in a room of the aristocracy, on a carpet that cost as much as his entire house, to be whipped by a terrified Polygon, while another Polygon with multiple sides hid his fear by shoveling pastries and tea in his mouth. And the funniest thing was that it made sense to them! All that nonsense made sense! That stupid play! Even those decorated teacups and those pastries with a fork on!

HOW STUPID THIS WORLD IS!

He laughed and laughed, with tears running down his shape, out of breath because of how fun that stupid situation was, out of breath for the throbbing pain, both on his back and in his fractured mind.

The lashes stopped and only the sound of his own, exhausted laughter filled the room. Lelx looked up, sobbing with laughter, and saw the Circle lower his hand and leave the cup on his saucer. He stood up and approached him, staring at him with that steel, cold gaze.

He thought Lelx was afraid of him! The thought made Lelx tremble with laughter.

The Circle stood before him, with that stupidly stern expression, as if it made any sense, as if all of that was something more than complete idiocy.

"Do you take back your heresies?" He asked again.

And, in front of that absurd question, Lelx burst into a thunderous laugh.

After two hours - or ten, or a hundred, or a thousand - the guards’ grip around his wrists vanished and Lelx collapsed forward, eye on the ground. He could not move a single muscle, but he still managed to laugh, a continuous tremor that went on and on.

He felt a foot resting on his back, a pressure that caused him a twinge of pain so powerful that it pierced his whole shape, along the infinitesimal line of his height.

"Do you take back your heresies now?"

The Circle's tone was angry. As if that could scare him! As if, after the whiplashes, an angry voice was enough to scare him! Oh no, what would the terrible, powerful Circle do, now? Put him in detention in his room?

He chuckled at the mere thought.

"Answer me!" The Circle ordered.

Oh no, how scary! The big bad Circle was angry! Lelx chuckled even louder.

The Circle stomped on him, with more energy than before: a flash of burning pain enveloped him and Lelx managed to find a minimum of breath for a laugh.

"No," he replied and that word was pure liberation, fresh water along his parched throat. "Never."

The pressure on his back disappeared.

"You asked for it." The Circle’s voice was serious and boring again, the typical tone of an aristocrat with tea and pastries. "Tomorrow you’ll be condemned by the Order."

And he left Lelx there, alone, laughing at that ridiculous sentence.

Chapter Text

ACT III - AXOLOTL

CHAPTER 11

With his hands tied and two Isosceles soldiers holding him by the arms, Lelx was escorted into a perfectly white, circular room, in front of a long semicircular table.

The members of the Sacred Circular Order were sitting on their benches, their looks were following him as he came closer. At the center of the table sat the Chief Circle, recognizable by the round brooch pinned on his shape and by the semicircular headdress. It reminded Lelx of the sun rising at dawn and that memory gave him a twinge of nostalgia at the thought of Rìem's library.

"We both knew you couldn't stay here forever."

To the left of the Chief Circle, Lelx recognized the Circle who took him away from his family: he was looking at him with the same, cold expression of the previous day, while his attendant Polygon was taking Lelx’ breath away with his whip. Lelx pursed his lips to refrain from laughing.

The Chief Circle took a sheet from the documents in front of him, read it and then lowered it again, to look at Lelx. His eye was surrounded by fine wrinkles.

"Lelx Yipnon," he said, " Your case has long been discussed by the members of the Council and the conclusion has been unanimous. Your delusions and hallucinations have deprived you of sanity and led you to elaborate ideas that are dangerous and harmful to society. Your blasphemous invention of a being called "Sphere", which you have defined as a "more perfect figure than any Circle", is clearly the result of your illness, as there is no better figure than a Circle."

The Chief Circle settled more comfortably on the bench, his eye narrowed.

"You are convicted of mythomania, blasphemy, and paranoia," he continued, "Your delusions make you a danger to others, therefore you will no longer be able to stay in your home, or live in contact with any other Shape: you will be locked up in the State Prison today and you will be granted only one visit a day, until your execution, at a time to be determined, which will be established in a forthcoming meeting of the Council." He grabbed the wooden gavel and banged it twice on the table. "That’s the decision of the Court. Next."

"Am I not even allowed to get my say?" Lelx yelled. He took a step forward, but the iron grip of the guards stopped him instantly. "Can't I even defend myself?"

"Your case has already been presented and discussed," the Chief Circle replied. "Before the execution, you will have the right to a court-appointed attorney, who can intercede for you, but this is the decision."

The two guards started to pull him towards the exit. Lelx wriggled in their grip.

"You all know I'm right!" He shouted. "You know that the Third Dimension exists! I've been there for a whole year! It is not a figment of my imagination and you know it!"

He tried to move forward and the guards dragged him back.

"I’ve seen everything!" He insisted. "I know about color! I know about music! I know about three-dimensional Shapes! I know everything!"

The guards yanked him out and the door was closed in front of him.

The first days in the cell were dominated by anger.

Anger towards the Circles, who insisted on not listening to him. Anger towards his parents, who had led him straight to the Circles. Anger towards Rìem, who had let him go without protest. Anger towards his whole world, so stupid, so close-minded, so unable to understand, to lock up the only Shape that knew the truth.

He scratched the walls, punched the door, and screamed until he lost his voice again. Nobody listened to him, nobody answered, even just to tell him to shut up. His already flat, tight world had become even smaller and tighter.

"You hate the cage, But it’ll be in a cage, that you will spend most of your life."

Did Miss Purple know that too? Did she know that he would return home and that he would have been abandoned, sentenced, imprisoned? His thoughts returned to a living room in an unknown Dimension, to a floor that looked like sand, to the ochre curtains and the orange sky, so cold and so roaring. He clung to himself, clung to the memory of those colors, their sounds, textures, flavors and smells. He clung to the memory of the festive Roule and of its colors that danced around him. He clung to Leban's determined smile, to the dim faces of the interdimensional travelers, to Rìem's enthusiastic expression as they explored the depth of his synesthesia.

Lelx reopened his eye after an infinite time and the world had not yet changed. In front of him, there was still the cell door and the silence of gray ruled over everything else.

The turn of a key made him jump to his feet, his eye wide open. He approached with small steps, an arm already stretched towards the exit, that opened in front of him before he reached it.

"You have visitors," a rough voice announced. The door opened more and an Isosceles entered. He was pointing a spear at him: Lelx stepped back, both hands raised.

Behind the Isosceles, he saw two other Shapes. One was another Isosceles, with a bunch of keys in his hand - probably the prison guard.

The other Shape was the Chief Circle himself.

The Isosceles guard went out and closed the door behind him. The Chief Circle turned to the remaining Isosceles.

"You can step back."

The Isosceles lowered his spear and, without losing sight of Lelx, he moved against the wall behind the Chief Circle. The latter raised his hand.

"Leave."

The Isosceles blinked and looked around, uneasily.

"But... Your Perfection..."

"He won't attack me," the Chief Circle interrupted him. "That's an order. Go out."

Reluctantly, the Isosceles opened the door and left.

Once they were left alone, the Chief Circle turned to look at Lelx, who was still frozen in place, his arms raised. The Circle put his hands behind his back and approached Lelx calmly.

He started to walk around him, in no hurry, just looking at him from every side. Lelx lowered his arms. The calm of the Chief Circle vibrated in the air, it ignited his survival instinct. The most important Shape of his world was in that cell with him, alone. Did he want to pretend Lelx had attacked him, to sentence him to death right away? Was he deciding whether to save his life? Why had he come to see him?

"So you visited the Third Dimension," said the Chief Circle, as if they had already started that conversation before. "And you saw the color."

"Yes," Lelx replied cautiously.

"Has the Sphere taught you how to make it?"

Where was he getting at? Lelx weighed the options: the Chief Circle knew he was not lying, he already knew everything and only the truth could have given Lelx a chance to survive.

If that possibility still existed.

"He showed me different techniques to make it," he finally said, following with his eye the orbit the Circle was making around him. "They can produce solid and liquid colors, but the liquid one is more used because they cover objects and fabrics with it. I also visited a Dimension in which they made me create a color powder, made from colored stones and gems."

The Chief Circle clicked his tongue.

"I see," he replied. "So you really saw the color."

"Yes," he replied, confident. "I can tell you all the names of the colors I’ve seen and show you how it was made in Roule, with stones."

"Using stones is a too archaic system," replied the Chief Circle. "The best colors are obtained from a mixture of animal and vegetable fibers."

Lelx blinked in surprise.

"You... know how to produce color?"

The Chief Circle continued to walk around him, his hands tight behind his back.

"I don't think there’s a problem to reveal this information to you," he began, calmly. "I’m the only Shape in the world to know the technique for creating color."

Lelx turned to follow him with his eye.

"You?!"

"Under the headquarters of the Order, there is my personal factory," the Chief Circle continued. "The ten stupidest Isosceles in the country are led there: they live in the factory, work there and produce color for me. Every year, to keep the secret, those ten are eliminated and replaced by ten others." He sighed. "There’s such a large quantity of Isosceles, that a dozen more or less makes no difference."

Lelx continued to look at him, dazed by that information.

"You... how... how can you produce color here?"

"It’s not so difficult to produce it, once you know the technique," the Chief Circle replied. "It was my predecessor to teach me, as he knew it from the previous Chief Circle and so on, up to the Circle that acquired the technique by the Chromatistes." His tone became disgusted. "Those heretics wanted to spread the color all over the world, giving each Shape different tones, depending on the number of sides. On the other hand, since the Circles have no sides, they would have had only two colors, one for each semicircle: the same two colors that had been chosen to distinguish Women." His eye narrowed into a disgusted expression. "From certain positions, a Woman could have appeared like a Circle and vice versa. Shapes would have addressed the members of the honorable Circular class as stupid Lines. Clearly, it was a project that shouldn't have passed."

The Chief Circle kept walking around him.

"So we pretended to organize a meeting in the Palace of the Order, to discuss this project," he continued, "And Chromatistes were wiped out. We couldn't risk the whole hierarchy falling, to leave room for the idea that all Shapes were equal. Every year thousands of Polygons put their firstborn in the hands of doctors, to make them break the Perimeter of their little ones and increase the number of sides, only to make them closer to the circular class. It rarely works and the little ones die, but we certainly couldn’t undo generations of such efforts."

The Chief Circle loosened his entwined hands and rubbed his fingers together.

"But color’s beauty was undeniable. This is why the Chief Circle tore the formula out of its creator's mouth, before shattering him. All those tones are a feast for the eye." He turned to look at Lelx. "I know. My rooms are a tribute to that wonder."

Lelx simply stared at him, stunned and amazed. The Chief Circle stopped in front of him, still rubbing his fingers.

"This..." Lelx murmured. "This..."

"Circles are too few, compared to the speed with which the Isosceles rabble reproduces," the Chief Circle said. "The ideas of equality and color will be fine in the Third Dimension, but they don’t work for our world. The Sphere never wanted to understand it, although we’ve imprisoned and executed its Apostles for generations."

The Circle brought his hands behind his back and walked to the door.

"You won't get away with this," Lelx said. "I’ll tell everything. This will mark the end of the Circles’ rule."

The Chief Circle turned back. His eye bent into a smile.

"Oh, really?" He answered, with his sweetest voice. "And who do you think Shapes will believe? To a mythomaniac, paranoid Equilateral Triangle locked up in prison, or to the eminent and wise leader of the Circular Order, who watches over and protects all Shapes?"

The Circle knocked twice: the door opened again and he went out.

Kryptos was holding his top again with one hand and, for the second time in two days, he blinked and tried to refocus where he was.

"So..." he began, with a hoarse voice, "The Circles really know..."

"That the Third Dimension exists?" Lelx completed it for him. "Of course they know. They’ve always known." His tone was bitter again, his gaze dark. "They know everything. They just don't want to tell anyone.”

Kryptos lowered his hand.

"Is he the Circle you were talking about?"

"Mh?"

"The first day we met," he explained. "When I came here to see you. You told me you hoped you sowed some doubts in a "stupid Circle", your words."

"No, it wasn't him." Lelx rolled his eye. "It was another Circle. An idiot..."

"Keep your voice down, please," Kryptos begged him, glancing at the door.

"... who had come to see me and ask me questions," Lelx continued, by rolling his eye. "He asked me what I meant by "above" and "below" our world, what exactly was height and to show him a couple of three-dimensional Shapes. I answered everything in the simplest way possible and tried to make him understand that those were not dangerous or harmful theories, but that they could improve our world. And he almost seemed to believe me, that's why I hoped that he had some doubts." He looked at Kryptos from top to toe with a half smile. "Instead, they sent me an attorney."

"At least this attorney believes you and wants to help you," Kryptos replied, smiling in turn. "Even though... wow. This is..."

"Crazy?"

"Dangerous," said Kryptos, instead. "You could really destroy the Circular Order. Even one single proof of the existence of the Third Dimension would be enough."

"The most obvious evidence is there for all to see and no one can measure it," Lelx replied, by indicating his brightness. "But even a single fragment of color would’ve been enough." He laughed, "You know, you could always enter the foundation of the Palace of the Order and search for the factory of the Chief Circle."

"If I could get in, without being shattered on the spot." Kryptos got up from the bunk bed. "I'll find a way to help you, trust me. I'm a good attorney."

"I believe it, Langley." Lelx loosened his crossed legs. "I believe it."

Chapter Text

ACT III - AXOLOTL

CHAPTER 12

"Thank you all for attending the first meeting on the case of Lelx Yipnon." Judge Beckenrohe closed the folder and put both arms on the table, his eye shifting from one side of the table to the other.

Kryptos replied with a blink and turned to look at the prosecuting attorneys: they were two Squares he had never seen. One of them had a gray folder inlaid with black segments, an elegant object made more for collection than for everyday use. The other Square wore a coat with shiny white buckles, not very common in the capital.

The two Squares answered his gaze with a forced smile. Their eyes hesitated a second too long on his perimeter and his mouth detached from the eye, then they moved quickly on their notes.

"Thank you very much for the invitation, judge Beckenrohe." The attorney with the coat spoke first. He had a sparkling accent, typical of the northern regions. "It’s impossible to live in the north this time of the year! I noticed the weather is still pleasant, here in the capital. You're so lucky! We also found a very comfortable place in that hotel near the courthouse: we got there in ten minutes, I have a room with an attached bathroom and meals can also be brought to the room with no additional cost." He snapped his fingers. "It’s a real bargain, I recommend it!"

Kryptos cleared his throat.

"We’re glad of your accommodation," he answered, "But we came here to discuss the case."

The Square from the north laughed.

"Is there something to discuss?" He replied, nudging his colleague. "I think there’s nothing to discuss about the case. The accused has been visited by a doctor and interrogated by the Sacred Circular Order. Being here, for us, is just a mere formality."

Kryptos tapped the sheets to align their sides and placed them back on the table.

"You'll pardon me, but I still have some questions about this case," he said, in his most polite tone. "From the documents I received, I read that my client has been declared insane, but is not specified the reason for such diagnosis. He, on the other hand, was extremely reluctant to talk to me about this topic." He leaned forward, towards the judge. "If Your Lordship would be kind enough to explain to me, I would like to know what exactly my client is accused of and according to what his madness has been declared."

Judge Beckenrohe looked at him, then reopened the folder.

"I always find your diligence and scrupulousness admirable, Attorney Langley," he praised him. "But in this case, it’s not necessary to invest too much effort: the prisoner is accused of insanity, for his crazy and paranoid statements about "another world"."

"What do you mean, exactly?"

"I mean that the accused stated there are other worlds outside our own, without however providing any proof of his thought." He flipped the page, accompanied by the subdued giggles of the two prosecuting attorneys. "According to the law records of the Assemblies, I quote: "Any Shape that claims to have received revelations from other worlds or Dimensions and that exposes these ideas, in such a way as to induce themselves and others in a dangerous state of exaltation, but without however providing any concrete and real evidence to explain them, must be imprisoned and interrogated by the members of the Sacred Circular Order, who will establish the most suitable sentence based of the rank of the aforementioned Shape".”

The Square from the north chuckled louder.

"Other worlds!" He exclaimed. "What a delightful, childish fantasy!"

"Right," Kryptos agreed, with a forced smile, "However, if I am allowed, Your Lordship..." The judge motioned for him to continue. "I talked with the accused Yipnon and with those who knew him. His teachers called him a very promising Equilateral, with a lively intelligence. After talking with him in person, I saw that it’s true: Yipnon is young, his mind is still adaptable, but he already demonstrates a strong mathematical and visual intelligence. He’s able to use Sight Recognition, despite being only a Triangle, and he can solve complex calculations in a few minutes." He first glanced at the judge, then at the prosecuting attorneys. "I realize the unreality of such fantasies, but I wouldn’t be rash to consider them just the result of a sick mind: it’s possible that in his fantastic thoughts of "worlds outside our own," there are the foundations of innovative mathematical theories, which could improve our study of mathematical and scientific phenomena."

"It could, but it’s very unlikely," replied the Square from the north. "His fantasies wear him out and he speaks without providing any evidence. If he can't prove anything he says, then these are just lies and he's not a misunderstood genius, but just a crazy mythomaniac."

"Don't you think you are a little biased in your statements, colleague, simply because the accused is a Triangle?"

"If anything, it's the exact opposite, attorney," the judge said. Both Squares turned to look at him: Beckenrohe was looking down while leafing through the files in front of him.

"According to the minutes' number 244 of the Circular Assembly," he read, " “If a Shape is caught in the act of spreading these dangerous ideas, Police must destroy the Shape in question if Isosceles, scourge and imprison it if Equilateral and lock it in a mental hospital if Square or Pentagon. In the case of the Polygons, however, whatever their aristocratic rank, they must be arrested and sent straight to the capital, to be interrogated by the members of the Sacred Circular Order, who will establish their fate"." The judge dropped the page he read and lifted his gaze to Kryptos. "The defendant Yipnon, as an Equilateral Triangle, should've only been locked up. Instead, not only he was granted a medical examination - which is not indicated among the procedures in the law record - but he was even given an aristocratic treatment since it was the Circles who judged him and decided his sentence."

Kryptos pursed his lips, caught off guard. The two prosecuting attorneys exchanged a smiling look.

"It seems that your accused has been treated all too well, considering his social rank," the Square from the north said. "I heard that even the Chief Circle himself bothered to talk to him." He brought a hand on his shape. "He’s truly merciful."

And he hides a factory in which he produces color just for himself. Kryptos bit his tongue, to avoid those rash words from coming out. Instead, he merely addressed a polite blink of assent to the judge.

"Thank you, Your Lordship." He closed his folder. "It means I’ll have to put my energy into something else."

As soon as he saw the front of the psychiatric hospital appear in the long row of houses, Kryptos quickened his pace, his grip tight around the bag.

Maybe that was a pointless visit, but he could not afford to leave any idea unattempted. The hospital doctors were in contact with a huge variety of insane Shapes, round the clock: who better than one of them could give him an accurate definition of "insanity"? If he had been lucky, the doctor would also have provided him with data, ideas, or even just a small detail, that would have helped him prove that Lelx was not as crazy as the prosecution said.

He went up the entrance steps, passed through the double doors and held out his card to the Pentagon behind the counter.

"I’m Attorney Kryptos Langley," he introduced himself. "I would like to speak with one of the doctors, to ask him for some clinical information. Is there anyone available?"

The Pentagon checked his register, picked up the phone, and dialed a number. He waited for a full minute, then hung up.

"Unfortunately they’re all busy at the moment," he replied. "If you prefer, you can request an appointment, so you won't waste time."

"I’d be very grateful."

The Pentagon picked up another register, opened it, and glanced through the grid of names and numbers.

"Dr. Krevel has two free hours tomorrow," he said. "Do you need more time?"

"On the contrary, I think an hour will be enough."

"Perfect." the Pentagon marked something on the grid. "Tomorrow afternoon, half past two."

"Can you give me a memo?"

The Pentagon searched his desk for a blank piece of paper. While he was writing time and date, Kryptos looked around and his gaze lingered on the double doors that led to the area reserved for sick Shapes.

"Here it is." The Pentagon handed him a card. "Tomorrow at half past two, with Dr. Krevel. He will wait for you here."

"Thank you." Kryptos accepted the memo and turned it over in his fingers, wavering. Finally, he looked up. "Among your patients, there should be a certain Lemmer. Costanz Lemmer." He swallowed. "An Irregular."

The Pentagon took another register and searched again.

"Costanz Lemmer," read the Pentagon. "Yes, he came here two years ago."

Kryptos leaned forward.

"How is he? Is he good?"

"He died after three months," the Pentagon replied, looking up at him.

"What... how is it possible?" he asked. "What did he die of?"

"He was an Irregular," the doctor replied, "They’re never in good health."

"But he was fine... "

The Pentagon looked at him from base to top. You won’t understand, you’re just a Square, his gaze said.

Kryptos felt his organs twist and his throat tighten. He gave a brief blink of assent to the Pentagon, pushed the piece of paper deeply into his pocket and left the hospital.

As soon as he was outside, he turned right and started to walk with long strides. A terrible fear was growing inside him with every step. His arms trembled as he clutched his bag spasmodically. He started to run, panting with fear.

He stormed inside the prison, almost throwing his identification card in the eye of the guard that was sitting at the entrance.

"Attorney Langley." was the only introduction. He went in and, as soon as the security guard approached, Kryptos anticipated him, by approaching him first.

"Carelia Fij," he said, grabbing the guard’s arm. "Line. A year and a half ago. She was charged with multiple murders and sentenced to life in prison. Is she still here?"

The guard blinked, puzzled, and stepped forward, shaking Kryptos’ hand off him.

"I have to check the list. Hey..." he turned to his colleague behind the counter. "Where’s the list of inmates?"

The other guard passed it to him and he started to scroll. Kryptos looked down as well, searching for the Line in the list of names.

She was not on the list.

"Had we a Line here?" The guard asked his colleague, who was sitting behind the counter. "Carelia something."

The other guard seemed to think while rubbing his Isosceles top. Suddenly, his eye lit up.

"Oh yes!" he exclaimed. "The one who did the massacre! She cried every evening."

"That?" the guard rolled his eye. "It was even more depressing to stay here, with her crying that reached the entrance."

"What happened to her?" Kryptos asked, alternating his gaze from one guard to another.

"Dead," answered the Isosceles behind the counter.

"When?"

"I don't know." He shrugged, "Perhaps two or three weeks after her arrival."

Not even a month. Kryptos shivered.

"How?" he asked, with a firm tone.

"Maybe from illness."

"Maybe?"

"Do I look like a doctor, to you?" the guard justified himself. "That’s what was written on the report. Could it be that, by dint of crying, she got some strange disease."

Kryptos stepped back, he put a hand over his mouth.

"I... thanks for the information." He turned around and, without adding anything else, reached the door and left.

Dr. Krevel had an impeccable appearance, with a perfectly ironed lab coat and his eye arched in a polite smile that conveyed peace and tranquility.

Kryptos approached him, his hand extended. The doctor glanced at his inclined shape, lingered for a moment on his mouth and, in the blink of an eye, he returned to look him straight in the eye, without losing his gentle smile.

The perfect image of a good doctor.

"You must be Attorney Langley." Even his voice expressed the same calm that was radiating from his appearance.

"It's me," Kryptos introduced himself. "And you’re Dr. Krevel."

"In person." The doctor raised a hand to the door leading inside the hospital. "Do we want to move to a more comfortable place?"

"Your office will be perfect."

With a gentle smile, the doctor opened the entrance and led Kryptos down a white corridor, lined with numbered doors. They passed an Isosceles cleaner, who greeted them briefly before continuing his work.

They came to an area of unnumbered doors. Dr. Krevel chose one and opened it, revealing a large, square room, with two walls covered by bookcases, a desk and a large window overlooking an internal courtyard.

"Have a seat,” the doctor invited him, by pointing to one of the two chairs in front of his desk. He sat down on the other side. "I was told you need more clinical information. If you want, in addition to my explanations, I also have some illustrative files that can be useful to you."

Kryptos put his hands on the desk, without sitting down.

"Costanz Lemmer."

The doctor blinked.

"I beg you pardon?"

"Costanz Lemmer was Irregular," Kryptos said. "He has been diagnosed with an irregularity impossible to heal and the prosecution wanted to shatter him. After the trial, the judge decided to send him here." His hands were shaking. "It was two years ago: after three months here, he died."

"Oh." The doctor's gaze softened. "I didn't know you were close to him... "

"I was his attorney."

A blink of an eye.

"Oh," he repeated, "I thought..." The doctor waved his hand. "I'm sorry, attorney, but Irregulars always suffer from bad health. They may seem healthy, but it doesn’t take much for them to get seriously ill."

Kryptos bent over the table.

"Lemmer had been checked by a doctor two days before the trial," he said, "And he was in excellent health. He was thirty-five years old and trained every day. He had worked for ten years in lazarets and military hospitals, every day in contact with sick Shapes and he never caught a cold." Kryptos narrowed his eye. "He was in perfect health, better than mine and yours combined. So, doctor, I ask you to tell me what really happened."

The doctor's eye moved across the room again, looking for an escape. Kryptos moved his hands forward, reducing the space.

"Carelia Fij," Kryptos continued. "Line. She carried out a massacre, by killing her entire family, the neighbors and all those who tried to stop her. The prosecution wanted to shatter her. After the trial, it was proven she was in extremely stressful conditions and that that’s what triggered her. Therefore, the judge sentenced her to life in prison. After a couple of weeks, she died. She was also in excellent health, ate regularly and worked with other inmates. Now, call me psychic, but I find it quite strange that two healthy Shapes die in such a short time."

The doctor leaned against the back of the chair, in an attempt to distance himself from Kryptos.

"These things happen, attorney." His tone kept being polite, although his eye was still looking for an escape. "Often those who are better off, are also the first ones to die. Unfortunately, I wasn't Lemmer’s doctor, so I don’t know more: but if you want, I can ask..."

"I think you know everything, doctor," Kryptos interrupted him. "Tell me the truth: was Costanz Lemmer killed?"

The doctor embraced the room with a long gaze: one last, desperate attempt to escape. Then, he returned his eye to Kryptos.

"We don't "kill", attorney," he replied. "We help disabled and mentally incapacitated Shapes, by trying to cure their diseases. If the disease is incurable, then we allow them to live what remains of their life in a quiet place, where they cannot harm others."

"You’ll pardon me for this, but I did a few searches on the hospital and the prison." Kryptos opened his bag and took out two files. He placed them in front of the doctor. "On average, the stay of a prisoner in the state prison and the stay of a patient in the psychiatric hospital are the same: three months, more or less. After three months, patients die "from sickness". After three months, the prisoners are visited by a doctor, and immediately afterward they "died from sickness"." He put his hands on the table again and leaned forward. "I want the truth, doctor, and I want it now."

The doctor stared at the two files for a long time, without lifting a hand to open them. Every trace of brightness and smile had disappeared from his eye, which was dull and tense. He raised it on Kryptos.

"The psychiatric hospital has a name to keep," he replied. "We can’t open "branches" of the hospital: both because the hospital is one and because there aren’t enough Pentagons for all Irregulars. Do you know what the birth rate is? Five Isosceles for each Polygon. Five! And, every five, at least one Irregular always comes out. How can there be enough doctors, if there’s such a high number of Irregulars? We have to smooth out that difference in some way."

"And in prisons?"

"We certainly can’t fill the capital with prisons," the doctor justified himself. "You know better than me: everybody commits crimes, every day. With the number of committed crimes, prisons should’ve been saturated for a long time. So what should the government do? Leave criminals on the loose? Of course not. When the prison reaches a critical number of prisoners, we free up space to keep the situation under control."

“Lines are Lines and Irregulars... well, yours is still in the hospital, as far as I know, so at least he’s receiving some medical care. In any case, I don’t think he’s having a bad time.”

"Circles are too few, compared to the speed with which the Isosceles rabble reproduces."

"Of course the same procedure is not adopted for everyone," the doctor added immediately. "Shapes who still have close relatives enjoy a longer stay. But if there are no known relatives or they’re not interested in them, if their parents are dead, or if they’re alone, in that case, we intervene first."

Carelia Fij had killed all her relatives and acquaintances and there was no one left for her. Costanz Lemmer still had some relatives who might have been interested in him, so it was just a matter of checking if they were interested in his fate.

His arms started shivering too. Kryptos straightened up, picked up the files and slipped them into his bag.

By seeing that retreat, Dr. Krevel leaned across the table, recovering his composure.

"Attorney…"

"Thanks for your help, doctor." Kryptos blinked his assent. He tried to smile, but he felt like he has been turned into stone. "I apologize for taking away your precious time."

"You... you’re welcome." The doctor looked around, perplexed. "Do you want me to walk you...?"

"No, thank you." He raised a hand. "I remember where the exit is."

What to do?

Kryptos sat on the ground, his back against the sofa. The floor before him was filled with open books. Old cases, history and geometry books, notes in which he had collected Lelx' information on brightness/height, color, the origin of light, First and Third Dimensions.

Doors were closing in front of him, one after another. The Circles - because only they could have had the means for such cleaning - had managed to eliminate everything. No trace of color in history, except for a few lines about Chromatists. No mention of the importance of brightness. No theory, even experimental, about the origin of light. Everything was branded as useless, superfluous, unimportant.

What can I do, more?

Lelx had been accused of mythomania, blasphemy and paranoia. Heavy accusations to break down and he had nothing to counter them.

His thought returned to Dr. Krevel, to the list of dead Shapes he found during his research. Costanz Lemmer smiled the last time they met and thanked him for saving his life. Carelia Fij swore to him that she would be a new Woman and that she would make prison her new home.

Both had been killed.

“I always think I could gain more. I could... I don't know, get them out, maybe. Keeping them under surveillance, of course, but maybe... maybe free.”

“The ideas of equality and color will be fine in the Third Dimension, but they don’t work for our world.”

“Do you know what the birth rate is? Five Isosceles for each Polygon. How can there be enough doctors, if there’s such a high number of Irregulars? We have to smooth out that difference in some way.”

"Do you understand now why it’s so foolish to punish Irregulars for their Configuration? They are still Shapes of geometry. They’ll exist forever, so it's absurd to brand them as evil, just for their appearance. It’s not regularity that determines the Shape."

Kryptos raised his hands to cover the eye. He saw Lelx sitting cross-legged in his cell. He remembered the spark that lit up his eye, every time he saw Kryptos enter. That half-smile he gave him when they were speaking, so arrogant and intelligent.

The Chief Circle wanted to condemn him, Kryptos had nothing to save him. And, even if he managed to save Lelx, how long would he have been able to keep him alive, in prison or a mental hospital, before space started to run out?

"Kryptos..."

Kryptos lifted his hands from the eye and saw Martin. His brother-in-law was there, in the living room, standing in front of him, looking at him with a wide eye full of concern.

Am I  sleeping? Is this a dream?

"Kryptos," Martin repeated. He leaned over and touched his arm: his touch was real. "Lydya told me you’ve been here for two days, that you haven’t eaten anything, what’s going... hey!"

Kryptos clung to his arms and pressed his eye against his shape. He closed his eye tightly, holding back the tears, and pursed his lips to prevent himself from bursting into sobs.

"Oh, damn." Martin’s voice was overflowing with concern. "What happened? I knew it was serious, Lydya was too worried. Tell me everything, you know you can trust me."

Kryptos took a deep breath, exhaled and broke away from his brother-in-law. He reopened his eye.

"Martin..."

"Tell me."

He squeezed his arms.

"Martin, I must win this cause."

Martin blinked a few times, clearly off guard.

"But..." he knelt next to him. "You know you can't win it."

"I know!" The answer came out in a shrill full of desperation. "But I have to! I have nothing, but I have to save him because Lelx is right about everything."

"Wait, but you didn't want to see how crazy he was...?"

"He’s not crazy!" he replied, too loudly. He lowered his voice. "He's right about everything. About this world, about all worlds..."

"All worlds?"

"Do you remember that problem?" he said. "The one about paper strips? Make four identical triangles, with six paper segments. Do you remember how difficult it was?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Do you want to know what the solution is?"

"You know it?"

"The solution is a geometric figure with four faces, four vertices and six sides, which extend into brightness." He looked at his brother-in-law without wavering. "Its name is Tetrahedron."

"Te... tra... what?" Martin narrowed his eye, trying to see the shape. "Kryptos, what are you ta...?"

"This is the solution!" He insisted. "Extend yourself into brightness. If you try, you’ll be able to see it. Extend a Square into brightness: you will create a shape with eight vertices, six faces and twelve sides, called Cube. That's the result of three to the third power."

"Wait, what does this have to do with...?"

"It was Lelx who gave me this problem," Kryptos interrupted him. "This problem demonstrates that brightness isn’t just a feature Shapes have, but a real Dimension. Spatial dimensions are three, not two: length, width and brightness. Our brightness is infinitesimal, but imagine it extended..."

"But it's all theoretical..."

"It’s not." He tightened his grip on Martin’s arms. "A world like that exists. There are many others! They’re inhabited by creatures different from us, which are extended in three dimensions. Lelx saw them, spoke and lived with them."

"Kryptos..." Martin started to get up, but Kryptos pushed him back to the ground.

"I'm not crazy, Martin," he spelled out. "You've known me since the academy. You know I wouldn't take the words of a client seriously, without doing some research. I did everything I could. I discovered other things. And I'm sure Lelx is right."

Martin closed his eye and took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling slowly. When he opened his eye, he was calmer.

"Are you really sure?"

“One hundred percent.”

"But you have no proof."

"No." Kryptos released his arms and grabbed his own top again. "I’ve nothing concrete."

"You could always prove he’s completely disabled and mentally incapacitated and have him shut down in a psychiatric hospital..."

"I can't." He looked at his brother-in-law with trembling eye. "Do you remember my old cases? The Line and the Irregular? They’re both dead. They were killed, to free up space for others."

"Really?!"

"A doctor from the psychiatric hospital told me." He grabbed Martin's arm again. His voice broke. "I considered them victories. Those were my victories. I thought I’d brought a little change in the world. That I’d give them a second chance. Instead, I only delayed their execution." His eye quivered. "I don't want Lelx to have the same fate."

Martin put his hand on Kryptos’.

"Okay," he said, with a firm tone. "I didn't understand everything and, from what little you said, I don't think your client is sane. But it's important to you, so I'll do everything I can to help you with your case. I will do research, even on old cases, to see if I can find any precedent to which we can cling."

Kryptos hugged him and shut his eye tight, trying to hold back his tears.

"Thanks, Martin."

His brother-in-law patted him on the back.

"That's what friends and family are for," he replied, with a hint of a smile in his voice. "Now, let's get out of here and come eat something."

"But the details…"

"We’ll think about them later, now you have to get your strength back." Martin stood up and held out his hand. "You won't be able to save your client if you can't stand up."

Chapter Text

ACT III - AXOLOTL

CHAPTER 13

"Thank you for coming to the second meeting on the case Yipnon." Judge Beckenrohe spoke first, his eye shifted from Kryptos to the two prosecuting attorneys, that were lazily leaning on their chairs. "I propose to start, by agreeing on the verdict first, then let’s see how we can accommodate each other."

"Absolutely." The Square from the north put an arm on the table and leaned forward. His eye was as lively as his voice. "The accused Yipnon must be executed: I think we all agree on this."

"Don't make hasty statements, colleague," Kryptos replied coldly. He sat straight and firm, one hand over the other, his eye on the prosecutor.

The Square looked at him, amazed by that reply. Then he chuckled.

"I thought we’ve already established that your client is completely insane," he said. "Do you still need some clarification?"

"I think Lelx Yipnon is not what he seems from a cursory look."

"The accused speaks of non-existent worlds, without providing even half evidence."

"This doesn’t imply he’s completely insane."

"His ideas are paranoid and dangerous, they consume him."

"The client I talked to is all, but consumed by his ideas," Kryptos replied. "He’s lucid, cold and perfectly aware."

The prosecutor's Square curved his eye into a smile. His gaze lit up, a challenging look animated his expression.

"I thought you just wanted to negotiate on the days to give him before the execution, colleague," he leaned towards Kryptos. "I didn't think you dared to negotiate on the verdict."

Kryptos intertwined his hands. The hopeful expressions of the Line and the Irregular came back to his mind.

"I am the defense attorney," he replied, "I’m just doing my job."

And this time, I won't let my client get killed.

"It’s not necessary."

The balance of stares between Kryptos and the prosecution's Square broke down, both turned to the judge: Beckenrohe closed his file with a slam.

"W... what? " Kryptos asked.

The judge took off his reading monocle.

"Let me speak this clearly and simply, attorney." Even his tone had lost the usual solemnity. "I noticed that, recently, you’ve visited the library very often and you’ve done very assorted research."

A shiver ran down Kryptos’ back.

"As I said last time, there’s no need to put such a huge amount of energy in for this case," the judge continued. "The Circular Order has already established the conviction of Yipnon and the trial will confirm the Order’s verdict. You just have to take a seat in the courtroom, that’s all."

Cold closed around him from the inside, his hands trembled. Kryptos clenched them into fists.

"Your Lordship," he replied in a firm tone, "It was you who chose me as a defense attorney. Therefore, it’s my duty to carry out my task as honestly as possible, to defend the interests of my client..."

"Come now, I didn't choose you for your abilities." The judge rolled his eye. "You know that, in an attorney, is not important to admire its integrity and honesty, but the perfection of its shape and the exact precision of its right angles.”

Those words pierced him from side to side, causing Kryptos to lean back on the chair. The judge gave him a superior look, his eye lingered too much on his mouth detached from the eye and on his inclined sides. On the other side of the table, he heard the Square from the north hold a chuckle, while the other Square gave him a blatant look from the edge of his decorated folder.

That in-depth analysis overwhelmed him with shame. Kryptos fell silent and looked down at his clenched hands. The words Lelx said to him on the first day looped in his mind over and over again.

“ They’ve already decided to get rid of me and they just want to make my execution look legal. But, at the same time, they want to be sure they have a clear path, so they gave me the attorney with the lowest chance to win. ”

It was not an attack on him. It was an objective statement about how Polygons worked. How the system worked.

And that Kryptos could not do anything about it.

The problems started when he was in school.

The other Squares always gave him funny looks. All of them had a horizontal side above the eye, two vertical sides at the arms and another horizontal side as the base. If their opposite angles were connected by a line, they formed an X in the center.

He did not have a side above the eye, but an angle. The other was at the base, while the two opposite angles were at the arms. By joining them, they would not make an X, but a cross. His sides were not straight but arranged obliquely.

Failed Triangle, they called him in school. They threw him engraving pens and pushed him around, by taking advantage of the easy grip given by the angles on the sides, while laughing at his expressiveness, the result of that strange defect that had made him born with his mouth separated from the eye.

His parents repeated him to be patient. The Board certified that there were no irregularities and if the Board said it, then it was true. His sides were parallel, the angles of ninety degrees. He was a perfect Square, just a little tilted. And the separate mouth was just an imperfection, that did not affect his configuration. With annual medical checks, everything could have been kept under control.

So why did he have to be ashamed of what he was like? He was a regular Square.

Just a little crooked.

When he grew up, the little ones from the school gave way to the young people of the academy and mockeries were replaced by silent, perplexed gazes. He talked to some Squares and he even managed to find a good friend like Martin. At the end of the day, they were all regular Squares.

After school, he looked for a job. Despite the certificate from the Board that confirmed his regularity and the annual medical checks, no law firm wanted him. So he set off on his own and started looking for clients. Some of them looked at his tilted shape and declined his help, others looked at his tilted shape and accepted it. Typical consequences of the job, right? Even the best attorney is rejected by some clients, at the beginning of its career.

He began to ignore the weight of other gazes and just registered their existence. His friend Martin introduced him to his sister: a lovely Line, with a trilling voice and long, curved eyelashes. Lydya looked at his tilted shape, evaluated it with amazement and a little suspicion, but after five minutes of conversation, they were laughing together while holding their hands and looking into each other's eye.

His shape was not a problem, neither for his family, nor for his wife. His fellow attorneys approached him with the same polite detachment they used among them, the judges treated him exactly like any other attorney. Nobody pointed out his inclination, nobody made disrespectful comments. They were all adults, in a serious environment, doing their work.

When the guard opened the cell door and Kryptos entered, the first thing he saw was Lelx, sitting on the bed. The Triangle turned to look at him and a joyful flame lit up his intense eye. Kryptos was his first and only visit of the day. He was always his first and only visit, his window on the outside, the only one in the world who believed him.

Kryptos walked towards him, fell to his knees at Lelx’ feet and grabbed his hand. Tears gushed out before he could even try to hold them back, they ran down his shape and fell on the hand of the Triangle he could never save.

Lelx placed his other hand on his back and tightened his right fingers around Kryptos'. He did not need an explanation, because he was the smartest Triangle Kryptos had ever known, because he was probably the smartest Triangle that ever lived.

"Forgive me," Kryptos sobbed. "Forgive me, Lelx."

"It's all right," he said.

"You knew everything," he cried, "From the very beginning. You were right about everything. About this world, Circles, Women, color, about everything."

Lelx simply gave him a gentle stroke on the back.

"My old clients," Kryptos continued, between sobs, "Even those who were grateful to me. They had... everyone looked at my sides with distrust. Nobody truly believed in my abilities. Not even the judges themselves believe in me. Nobody will ever give me a chance to win."

Tears blurred his vision: he winked and pressed his eye against Lelx's knee.

"You were right," he said, "They chose me for you, because I'm the attorney with the lowest chance to win. Because they want to execute you. And... and it doesn't matter how much evidence I have, how much time it takes, how much energy I spent on this case. They’ve already decided." He squeezed his hand tight. "But I don't want you to die. I don't want them to kill you. You can't die."

Kryptos looked up at him. Lelx was looking at him with that intense and attentive eye: on the first day, he had compared it to the eye of a merchant, a scientist and a child. And it still had those aspects, along with a spark of deep awareness, of higher intelligence.

The Triangle that visited the Multiverse. The Triangle, whose knowledge can destroy centuries of Circles’ rule.

He will die and I won’t be able to save him.

Kryptos sobbed harder and hold his hand in his own.

"You’re the only one who’s never really cared about my sides," he said, "From the beginning."

That unique eye narrowed into a smile.

"With all that I’ve seen in the Third Dimension," he said, "Your sides are a pleasant reminder of what’s beyond this world."

Other tears stung his eye and Kryptos abandoned himself against Lelx, clung to his hand as if he were the prisoner sentenced to death and Lelx the only one who could save him.

Because, it was just like that: after Lelx was gone, he would be condemned to survive in a tight, small world, discriminated against for his tilted shape, under the rule of leaders who would hide the truth forever. He would have been the only Shape from the Second Dimension who knew the truth and could never spread it.

"It's all right, Kryptos," Lelx said to him, still holding his hand tightly. "I don't know what will happen, but it won't end here."

Kryptos did not reply but clung to him, as if Lelx was the anchor that could protect him from the approaching cyclone and the series of events that would have destroyed their lives.

The return home was very long.

His eye was still heavy and his shape wet with his own tears. Now and then, when he blinked, a tear kept stinging his eye: Kryptos looked down, pulled out his handkerchief and dried it quickly before someone noticed it.

Once he was safely at the entrance of his home, he put his jacket on the hanger, left the bag on the floor and dragged his feet inside.

A warm light came from the kitchen, along with the gentle vibration of his wife's Peace Cry. Kryptos turned to look inside and the bright light made him squint.

Lydya was knitting something while checking the pots that mumbled on the stove. Eddie was on the high chair, chewing his rattle. It was a scene of pure delight, a small picture of perfect family life, a supernatural peacefulness that tightened the pain at the center of his shape, sinking sharp nails into it.

Lydya saw him out of the corner of her eye and turned to look at him. Her pupil widened, her eye curved into an affectionate smile. She left her sewing work on the table and came to meet him.

"Kryptos!" her voice was a trill of pure joy, a sublime perfection that crushed him, took away his strength and, at the same time, filled him with dazzling love for that delightful figure.

Kryptos met his wife halfway and hold her in his arms.

"D... darling? " she asked, puzzled.

"Let’s stay like this," he asked, while holding her tight. "Just for a little while."

And Lydya, considered ignorant and illiterate just because she was a Woman, put her hands on his back and held him tightly against her, in silence.

The sky went from the light gray of the day to the dark gray of the night, as the brightness slipped away from his cell. Lelx sat cross-legged on the floor, his gaze turned to the small window up high: an empty fragment of the sky was visible behind the bars, a black surface without moon or stars.

He still felt Kryptos' tears on his shape, their wet blue desperation contrasting with the white/black/gray triptych of their world. His hand still tingled, remembering the Square's anguished grip when he clung to him.

He knew that Kryptos could not have done anything. He knew it from the start. He was playing an impossible battle against too-powerful enemies. However, Kryptos had held out some hope. His eye was full of determination, every time he visited Lelx. He carried out research, analyzed his words, collected every fragment of useful information, by spending hours on it. That total dedication was astonishing, Kryptos had utter trust in him. He, who had been branded as madman and mythomaniac by his own family.

So he had entrusted himself to Kryptos, to his investigations, to his comforting trust, captured by those three words he had said, that had given Lelx back a thread of hope.

"I believe you."

He thought no one in that world could still believe him. Not after his parents left him with the Circles and his sisters turned their backs on him. Not after being whipped and imprisoned. Not after repeating his story too many times, only to be branded as a madman every single time.

Kryptos believed him and helped him. He had given him hope again. They had believed it together. But, with that desperate cry, the illusion had been finally broken: their impossible battle remained such and a small attorney could not bring down the millennial regime of the Circles.

"The ideas of equality and color will be fine in the Third Dimension, but they don’t work for our world. The Sphere never wanted to understand it, although we’ve imprisoned and executed its Apostles for generations."

Rìem had sentenced him to death, by sending him home. Yet, at the moment, Lelx was unable to feel anger towards him: he shared Kryptos' sadness, the awareness of the short time left, but he was not angry with Rìem for all that.

He had seen the Third Dimension and spoken to its creatures. He had discovered he was a synesthete and that his senses all reacted together to music, letters, and colors. He knew he was the best Triangle in his world and a creature unique in the whole Multiverse.

He could not die like this.

“ You will not die as a merchant in the Plane."

He looked at the square of black sky visible from the window. The darkness brought to his mind the memory of the dark cave lit by a fire and the circle of travelers that were preparing a ritual for their rest.

Lelx closed his eye and took a deep breath. He felt the echo of the fire’s flavor, he smelled the red scent of the pipe. In his palm, he felt the weight of the oval stone Xerje had passed him: intense red, more than the pipe and the fire.

"These are our companions. Signs of communion with everything. No creature of the Multiverse is ever truly alone."

"I thought every Shape was born alone and died alone."

"You can't be alone, if you’re part of everything."

He heard the crackling fire, saw Xerje smiling at him, saw his eyes shining like galaxies. Pipe smoke spread over them. Dust was thrown into the fire, which took on a pink scent. The song of the creatures on the other side of the fire reached him.

Even though he was not physically there, he was still with them.

What would you do if you were in my place, Xerje? Well, these two - dimensional walls couldn't hold you back and you would be out already. But what if you couldn’t?

"If you’re out of answers and your hopes are gone, invoke the Axolotl and he will offer you a path. He never leaves an unheard prayer."

To pray? Lelx smiled, keeping his eye closed. And do you really think he can hear me from here, in the Second Dimension?

“The Axolotl listens and answers every question.”

Lelx focused on his memory of the fire, on the pink currents in which the embryos of Universes were shining.

"Axolotl," he whispered, "I don't know if you can hear me, from the Dimension where you are. But if you can do it, if you can listen to me, then help me." His hands were shaking. “I don't know what to do anymore. I have no more hopes. But there are still so many things I haven’t seen and done." His voice cracked. "I still want so much."

He opened his eye again: the sky was still black.

"Help me."

And he hoped that prayer fragment would go beyond the boundaries of his Dimension, past Rìem’s own, and reach the Great Guardian in his unknown Universe.

Chapter Text

ACT III - AXOLOTL

CHAPTER 14

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wr-pPyKvRl8

Herman Beeftink - "Autumn" (for flute and piano)

He dreamed of floating in midair, weightless in a huge space. Maybe he had just died in his sleep, murdered by the Circles before he could show up for the trial. That would have been a great way to get rid of an annoying Shape who knew too much: funny the Circles had not thought it before. Maybe there was some stupid rule that prevented them from doing so.

He opened his eye: he was surrounded by pink, its familiar taste of tea and the scent of paper, dense under his fingers. Lelx tried to turn around and turned 180 degrees, without any effort. There was no above or below: pink was everywhere, interspersed with blue ribbons, flute melodies that were part of the intense piano music. The glow points were dazzling fragments, that widened with every breath during the slow process that would transform them into Dimensions.

So do you end up here, when you die? In the place where Dimensions are born?

Something rustled around him and, out of the corner of his eye, Lelx saw the pink and blue currents meet and wrap themselves in spirals.

"Am I dead?" he asked them.

"You’re in the time and space between time and space," the whole place replied. "But only as a projection. Your physical body is still sleeping in your bed."

"So I'm here only with my mind?"

"Exactly."

From the ethereal wandering of the currents, Lelx saw a majestic creature emerge. It had the color of the currents, a large oval head and long appendages that swayed with it, a soft red tuba sound, which accompanied the varied melody of the piano pink.

The creature floated too, spinning around him like a planet around its star. It was a slow rotation, following the currents. The tail of the creature, while drawing that movement, stirred the pink and blue beams and new white dots sprouted here and there.

"Are you the one who creates the universes?"

"Universes are born and die without anyone's need," the creature replied. "Here they only find a fertile ground in which to grow."

The creature appeared again above him. His black eyes seemed to enclose other infinite glow points.

"Are you the Axolotl?" Lelx asked.

"Yes."

"Did you hear my prayer?"

"Yes." It looked like his wide mouth was bent in a perpetual smile. "And, since you came this far looking for me, you can ask me a question. What do you want to ask?"

Lelx watched the creature spin around him, in that placid orbit. He listened to the combined melody of the pink piano and blue flute. He watched the glow points grow with each breath.

And he spoke.

"I am a creature of the Second Dimension, born in a world that is too small for me," he said. "My world is dominated by a restricted class of tyrants, who impose a fake truth. The inhabitants have slave and weak minds, as flat as the universe in which they live. Ideas can’t be born, because the leaders kill anyone who dares to propose something new. Music doesn't exist. The color was banned by the Circles, which are the only ones to use it in secret. The only thing that matters is having a large number of sides, to see your children and grandchildren become aristocrats and living off ignorants.

“The Third Dimension doesn’t exist in my world, nor is its existence imagined. The only ones who know the truth are the tyrants. But they hide it from others and deny it to themselves, because they’re afraid to let others know that, outside of the small world in which they rule, there’s a huge universe in which they have no importance.

“I was born in this world, under this regime. I grew up in this cage of rules, forced to treat Shapes differently, according to the number of their sides. They never let me think of something new, they never allowed me to get out of the predetermined path."

His eye brightened.

"But I did it," he continued. "I turned from that path. I broke down the barriers of my world and visited the Third Dimension." His eye was full of excitement. "I saw perspective. I’ve seen shadows and how they follow creatures in each step, by moving in opposition to the light. I saw colors, listened to their music, smelled their perfumes, brushed my fingers against them, and tasted them on my tongue. I learned to read and write again and the words sang around me, took on color and flavor. I studied new mathematical laws, which opened up a huge world of formulas and theories for me. I touched solid shapes: I learned their names and structure, I calculated their volume and perimeter.

“And then I went beyond and talked to the creatures of the Third Dimension. I learned that Dimensions are even more than I imagined, that colors can be created in many different ways. I tried all the possible colors at the same time, I took part in invocation rituals and learned what a God is. I saw different worlds and each one taught me something. I’ve seen what a universe can become if full freedom is granted to color. I saw a lot and I didn't see anything, because there was still so much to see."

His voice cracked.

"I want to live to see all that this Multiverse has to offer me. I want to see a star die in a supernova. I want to jump through Dimensions until I see the Tenth with my eye. I want to create new colors, which nobody has ever created. I want to attend other parties and talk to other creatures. I want to hear other stories, see other rituals, learn other names, walk in other lands, float in other spaces, explore other worlds." He raised his hands in front of him. "I still want so much and I have so little time left."

The Axolotl was above him again, still rotating in his slow orbit. His front legs stretched towards Lelx, they cupped behind him, like a shield to protect his shape.

"Poor, little creature," he talked, with that voice that echoed everywhere. "Your thirst for knowledge is so great that not even the inhabitants of the largest Dimension of the Multiverse would be able to match it. Such craving requires colossal Dimensions and vast worlds to be kept at bay: you, on the other hand, were born in one of the smallest."

His voice was sweet, blue honey like the one around him.

"I feel so much pity for you, son of the Second Dimension," he said. "I’ve never seen so much desire for knowledge in a single life form. And such a delicate one, moreover. What a sad fate, to have such an insatiable hunger and not have the opportunity to satisfy it! And your time is running out too: your tyrants have already set the date of your execution."

The Axolotl brought the giant head closer to him.

"I want to give you a gift," he said, "A crumb of my possibilities. You have so many dreams and desires that have been denied you and too little time to realize them: you won't be able to control time, because that power is already in other hands, but I will make yours infinitely long, so you’ll be able to satisfy the need you have inside as much as possible.

“Since you’re an idealist and a dreamer, I will give you dominion over the dream world. You’ll be able to enter the dreams of every creature in the Multiverse, talk to them and, if you want, tell them your story. Your figure will become a source of inspiration for billions of people, who will overthrow absolute regimes like yours and spread ideas of freedom and equality. Under your inspiration, they will proclaim themselves brothers and equals, with no more distinction of religion, ideas, or race. Reason and knowledge will be extended to all and will become the thread that binds people together. There will no longer be closed social castes because reason will bring together all creatures. There won’t be any more obstacles to studying knowledge: everyone will dare to go beyond, they’ll have more desire to know, they’ll abandon the darkness of obscurantism to move into the light of a new world. And you will be the inspiration for all of this."

Lelx listened to him with his eye wide open, dazzled by those wonderful images of an infinite future, of worlds that collapsed and rose from their ashes, of that range of possibilities. The smile of the Axolotl seemed to widen.

"But above all," he added, "I will give you the greatest gift, what nobody in the Plane has ever granted you: free will.

“You will no longer be tied to a single destiny, but you’ll be able to choose yours. You can do as I said, go to the Multiverse and inspire billions of people, by bringing them the light of reason. But, if you want, you can also stay in your world and improve it. You will be able to overthrow the tyrants' regime because their weapons won’t be able to kill you. You can spread the truth and make your people evolve, by giving them awareness.

“But you can also do the exact opposite: you can destroy and bring chaos, to become the new tyrant of your world. You can scare the Multiverse and make its creatures fear you. You can pour so much knowledge into their minds, to drown them under the weight of despair. You’ll be able to burn entire worlds, be worshipped by others, and lead to fights between the obsessed. No mere weapon will be able to kill you anymore and only very few of them will hurt you: you can become a warlord, a ruler of chaos, a tyrant who consumes worlds and to whom people submit themselves.

“Or, you can do nothing. You can let my gift remain silent in you and, in five days, be executed by your tyrants. The choice is yours and all paths are open for you: this is free will.”

His eyes shone with a more intense, stern light.

“But remember: every choice will have consequences. Some will be less serious, some more. And, if choices depend on you, the consequences will be inevitable and you won’t be able to escape them. So choose carefully what your path will be, Lelx Yipnon, because in the end, for better or worse, we will meet again.”

The Axolotl closed his black eyes and, when he opened them again, black had given way to a golden light, dazzling more than a thousand stars, blazing more than a supernova.

Lelx shielded his eye with his arms and squeezed it while facing that impossible light. When he raised his eyelids again, he was back in his cell.

And his hands gave off a soft golden light.

He sat up and turned his palms towards him: the light was still there, a soft golden glow that broke the darkness of the night. He turned to the small window above him, but the sky was still a black square. There were no other lights in the cell and the Fog that permeated his world was as pearly as always. That was color. It sang in his ears, caressed his eye, hesitated on his tongue, filled the air with its perfume.

Lelx closed his hands in two fists and reopened them: two blue flames appeared in the center of his palms, small fresh fires with the smell of rain, which emitted the subtle music of the flute.

"You are destined to do great things."

All he had to do was want it and flames spilled from his hands, spread out to fill the entire cell. The blue fire reached the door, consumed it and ran out.

"Hey, what's ha... AAAAAH!"

The guards’ screams gave boosts to the flames. The fire poured out of the window, devoured wood and metal, slithered through the streets.

Lelx stood up and left his cell, while the fire moved away in his wake. He saw the Isosceles guards flee, he heard muffled screams coming from the closed cells: fists were slamming, before the doors got consumed and fire submerged the cells’ occupants.

Other screams reached him, as he got closer to the outside. First, the ones of pain, because the sight of color was burning everyone’s eye, then screams of despair when color erased everything else.

He left the prison in a blue sea, welcomed by the deep melody of flutes and cellos, by a taste of honey that burned the tongue, by the smell of damp wood. The flames danced light, wet against his skin like raindrops, devouring every stone, every plant, every house and every Shape. Blue took control, overwhelmed the monotonous gray and moved back to the black of the night. Even screams fell silent, overwhelmed by the thunderous music of color.

Lelx raised his hands. He closed his eye and brought his palms to him, letting the blue fire submerge his figure.

"It’ll be in a cage where you will spend most of your life."

It was like being brought into the Third Dimension again. His shape tore along the brightness and all other Dimensions. His structure disassembled, returned to atoms, which broke into infinitesimal particles.

All he had to do was want it and his particles changed. Fragments of strings modified their melody and twisted, by creating different sub-dimensions. Atoms aggregated into unstable forms, seeking balance. New combinations of matter were formed, wood and stone and matter and antimatter, liquid that gave way to solid, choosing in the infinite range of possibilities, what he wanted.

"Are you kidding me? I like my shape. I like being Equilateral."

"Do you like it?"

“ Yes. I bet you haven't heard many Shapes talking  about things they like."

Strings changed melody, atoms aggregated into a new stable form, matter assembled once again. The fire that enveloped him rose high, reached the boundaries of the Second Dimension and broke them, by acquiring a new spatial Dimension.

The flames opened up, the walls of the cage melted and he rose again.

"But one day you’ll get out of it and you will be similar to a God."

The last thing he remembered was going to sleep. Lydya's hand, clasped in his own, led him into the sweet oblivion, by extinguishing the heavy pain that oppressed his shape. Kryptos had closed his burning, wet eye, longing for a semblance of peace from the thought of Lelx and of the verdict he could never change.

He had run out of tears, by dint of crying. All his research, all his efforts, all his hopes were reduced to smoke. Even if his brother-in-law Martin had found something in the library, the verdict would not have changed: the Circles would have executed Lelx and his death would have been the greatest defeat of Kryptos’ life.

When Kryptos opened his eye again, he expected daylight and the crushing awareness of his failure. But instead, he saw the most incredible thing ever.

He was floating in midair, suspended and weightless. The black of the night was around him, above and below and on both sides, in an impossible way that made his mind spin. It was not pitch black, but there was something that brightened the darkness up: he did not quite understand what it was, but it was like a very long strip of paper...

"I’ll give you a problem: you have six equal segments, with the same length and width. Make four identical equilateral triangles, by joining them only by their ends.”

... that... yes, that should be fire, the thing that was burning. But it did not have the appearance of the white and gray fire he knew: those flames shone with an otherworldly light, too bright, with an intensity that could be compared neither to simple white nor to gray shades. It attracted his gaze, prevented him from looking away but, at the same time, made his eye burn.

Kryptos raised both hands and rubbed his eye, which had started to water. A glimpse of that wonderfully toned fire reached him through half-closed eyelids, it burned at full strength.

What's happening?

He blinked several times and finally bore that sight. The intense hue stopped attacking his pupil and he began to appreciate its nuances that were so... other. He even approached, by floating nearer in that black space, until he saw something and stopped.

There was a black silhouette against that other shade. A Triangle with regular sides, that was floating in mid-air and, just like him, had been attracted by that impossible sight.

As if he had heard him, the Triangle turned and, in the light of the fire, Kryptos recognized him.

He shone with a different light, which was not white, nor gray, nor similar to that of the flames. It was a light that caught the eye, that hurt and filled the sight, that attracted attention and rang out. He looked the Triangle in the eye and recognized the gaze of a scientist, a merchant, and a child.

Along with a spark of madness.

Lelx Yipnon folded his eye into a smile.

"My dearest Kryptos." He reached out to him and invited him to come closer. "Come here, my friend. Enjoy the show."

Kryptos approached, looked at that blazing fire, so particular, so intense, so multi-dimensional.

"What happened?" he murmured, dazed.

"I told you I’d find a solution to the problem," Lelx replied. "It wouldn't end as they wanted."

Awareness pierced him like an icy blade.

"That’s…"

"That's the Plane burning," Lelx completed for him, his voice vibrating with excitement. He raised his arms towards the flames. "Admire the perfection of chaos, listen to how the fire I created sings."

"What... what did you do..."

"No one believed me and nobody would have." Lelx turned to him: his eye was full of affection. "Only you were on my side. You’re the only one who deserved to be saved."

Kryptos looked at the flames, hypnotized. He felt empty inside, dazed by that information, frozen by the awareness that was his world and he was outside.

"My family..." he murmured, stunned.

"Your wife would never understand," Lelx continued as if it were obvious. "She was a product of our society, a mind that has been kept ignorant for too long, to be able to see the truth. While your son, growing up, would have turned against you, branding you like an old fool and having you locked up in a mental hospital."

"But... Martin..."

"Your brother-in-law? " Lelx let out a small chuckle. "Do you really think he would’ve helped you to the end? He didn't believe you and never would have, not even in the future. When the Circles would come for you, he wouldn't lift a finger to defend you."

Kryptos turned to him: Lelx was looking at him with that happy gaze, his eye curved in a dazzling smile.

Oh, how wrong I was. He heard, in a very distant part in the depths of himself. He really was insane.

"Lelx..." was all he could say.

"No." The Triangle raised a hand. "That’s not my name anymore." He looked at the flames, suddenly serious. "Lelx Yipnon died in the Second Dimension."

He blinked and his eye changed, causing Kryptos to move back in surprise. The pupil rotated backward, giving way to a series of images that followed very quickly, showing different tones, different signs and figures, letters vaguely similar to those he knew and others impossible to understand, a neverending list of unknown languages...

The eyelids covered the eye. When they lifted again, the pupil was back.

"Bill," he said, savoring that name, "Bill Cipher."

Kryptos simply stared at him, dazed and shocked. The Triangle looked at him.

"Yes," he declared. "This will be my name, from now on."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MR1dBPh49Pc

"The Barber of Seville" as jacked by Greg Pattillo  (flute)  and Eric Stephenson  (Cello)

Kryptos kept looking at him with his mouth open, stunned by all those news.

He hasn't seen anything yet, Bill thought. Even he was not yet fully aware of his new potential: he had just scratched the surface and had already come to create something wonderful.

He turned to the burning Second Dimension and spread his arms before that concert. The music of blue shades alternated low tones with sparkling moments, the spicy honey flavor created a wonderful contrast with the scent of rain. It was an impossible miracle, a new creation, different from the pathetic mediocrity of the flat world in which he lived.

There was nothing important down there. Nothing worth saving. The only worthy thing ever born from that world was him, with his intelligence and his unparalleled hunger for knowledge.

He looked down. He saw the flames devour buildings and ground, trees and mountains, wood and stone broken by the power of a fire impossible to put out. He looked at the creatures who hid under the earth and those who fled through the earth, into the woods and tried to slip into some dens, looking for safe shelters.

And finally, he looked down on the still surviving Shapes, which fled to the ends of the world. He saw them cry, scream, beg the Circles, their voices lost in the flames but audible only by him, the only true God who could decide their fate.

Bill Cipher saw everything which he had made and it was good.

END OF CHAPTER 14

END OF ACT III - AXOLOTL

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 15

The Plane burned deliciously, its music was pure harmony and Bill Cipher was leading it: the yellow of his new shape guided, with the sound of the trumpet, the note of blue flute along a cheerful and carefree melody.

The fire reached the borders of the Second Dimension and erupted outwards, beyond the edges and below what had been a pathetic, flat gray line.

A world as flat as the minds of its inhabitants.

He turned to look at Kryptos, expecting to see a smile on his expressive face too. But the Square was still staring at the fire, with empty eye. He did not even blink. He was just frozen on the spot, with his arms dangling and his mouth closed, stunned.

Urgh, it was still for his wife and son. But he would outgrow that soon: there was so much to do, to know, to explore and he still has to see everything! In the long run, he would not have needed those two anyway.

Bill held out his hand, with a broad, satisfied smile.

"Come with me."

Kryptos finally shook himself out of the trance: he blinked, looked away from the flames and set his gaze on him. In his pupil, there was confusion, pain and still that stupid sadness for that stupid loss.

It’ll pass. We have all the time of the Multiverse.

"Where?" Kryptos asked, confused.

"To see everything they’ve kept hidden from us."

The first stop was not far away.

The Solid was two minutes from the Plane: it was enough to ascend a little higher, beyond that veil that separated their two Dimensions, and everything took shape, everything became more defined, deeper, more three-dimensional.

And the Third Dimension burned even more deliciously than the Second.

Sitting on top of the building he had chosen as an observation point, Bill crossed his legs and rested both arms on his knee. He leaned forward, mesmerized by the sight of the blue fire entering houses, breaking through windows, devouring roofs. The colors of the Solid created a variegated, chaotic musical base to the light blue of flutes and the dark blue of cellos, while the suffocated screams of solid Shapes were a worthy accompaniment to the work of art he had just created.

He glanced at Kryptos: the Square was standing behind him, looking around, admiring the splendor of the three dimensions. He was slowly spinning around, trying to extend his gaze beyond the borders of that gigantic world. Cold still surrounded him and sadness permeated at the bottom of his eye, but curiosity was growing stronger inside.

See? It wasn't that difficult. All he had to do was walk it off.

Bill smiled, pleased with himself. He had solved Kryptos’ lack of receptivity, freed the Plan from its own flatness and even the Solid would have improved, without all those arrogant three-dimensional Shapes that thought so highly of themselves.

He looked down at a couple of Tetrahedrons running below him, screaming and crying as they were devoured by flames.

Uhmmm... he could have used a very good martini right at the moment.

A glass of martini materialized in his hand and Bill caught it before it fell. He blinked several times, twirling the glass stem between his fingers. The liquid inside looked like a martini. He tasted it: and it was a very good one.

He looked at the glass, let go of the stem and the empty glass disappeared.

Even this.

So he could materialize anything he wanted. Solid or liquid, existing or invented. He could create an impossible colored fire, capable of consuming stones and he could make a glass of alcohol appear in front of him.

He laughed, ecstatic.

So much power!

"Do you still find me fragile and delicate, Rìem?" He asked, turning his gaze to the large villa, two hundred meters ahead, clearly visible from his position. The garden burned deliciously, the fire consumed walls and roof. Even though he was not physically inside, Bill could see the library overrun with flames, the books curling in the fire, the radio melting in the heat, the paintings losing their colors.

And Rìem, closed in a corner, surrounded by flames.

How does it feel to be the one trapped?

His laughter rose louder and thundered over the burning Dimension. How did it feel to be the puppets of a much more powerful God, who could decide their life or death? How did it feel to be under someone else's jurisdiction? So? How does it feel to be condemned, Rìem?

He heard a groan and a sigh behind him. Bill turned and saw Kryptos bent on his knees: his eye was closed and he was rubbing it slowly with his fingertips.

"Too much three-dimensionality all at once?" He joked. "And you haven't seen anything yet. Wait till you see one of those Dimension where..."

The door to the rooftop swung open and a figure crawled out, dragging itself on its arms. It was a three-dimensional Hexagon, its shape a bright red. He had no eyes, but a bushy mustache over a mouth with large, orange lips. His mouth was open and he was coughing smoke: he had clearly managed to escape the fire, albeit losing part of his mustache.

"Well, well, well!" Bill welcomed him, turning his back on the show of the burning city. He uncrossed his legs and stood up, to get closer to the crawling figure. "Look who's got away! You're still alive, well done!"

The Hexagon raised his mouth to him and, although he did not have an eye, he seemed to be able to see him anyway.

"And who the heck are y...?"

"Bill Cipher, nice to see ya!" he introduced himself, holding out his hand. "I’m the one who burned everything down!"

Behind him, Bill heard Kryptos utter a strangled cry. A second later, he was at his side, ready to intervene in case of problems. But there would not be any, Bill knew it. He stood still, his hand outstretched, waiting for a reaction from the Hexagon.

The newcomer "looked" at him, turned to Kryptos and focused on him again.

"What kind of Tetrahedron would you be, anyway?"

"I'm not a Tetrahedron!" Bill replied lively, "I'm a Triangle! Two Dimensions, you know?"

The Hexagon looked even more perplexed than before.

"See, one of your Spheres was unfair to me," Bill explained, "So I decided to come here and give him a taste of his own medicine." A blue flame appeared in the palm of his hand. "And I burned everything because I could."

He brought the flame closer to the Hexagon and looked at him from above the fire, with an icy gaze.

"Any objections?"

"No, no, not at all," the Hexagon immediately replied. He raised both arms. "All’s good."

Bill laughed.

"What a fun guy!" He snapped his fingers and three glasses appeared in front of the three-dimensional figure. "Okay, stay focused, this is your last test: only one of the three glasses contains water, while the other two are poisoned. If you choose the right one, you’ll survive. Otherwise, you will die."

The Hexagon opened his mouth to protest, but Bill beat him on time.

"And if you refuse to do it, I’ll burn you." The blue flame appeared in his hand again. "You haven’t much time. Make your choice."

The Hexagon lowered his "gaze" on the three glasses, bit his lips. He “looked up” at Bill again, shifted to Kryptos, returned to the glasses. He moved his hand to grab the middle one, changed his mind and pointed to the right one, then to the left. His raised hand kept hesitating, moving from one glass to another, unsure about which one to choose.

In the end, he slammed the hand to the ground.

"Screw it." He grabbed the first glass in front of him and chugged it, without swallowing. He almost choked and started to cough, while giving himself strong pats on the front.

Bill burst out with a loud laugh.

"You’re hilarious!" He bend over, still snickering, and took the two glasses left. "None of them was poisoned, it was a joke! There’s just gin and chili. My recipe, I just invented it to have fun with ya.” He gave a glass to Kryptos. "I bet it burns, huh?"

"Oh shit, I’m going to die," the Hexagon managed to say, between coughs. "You’re totally crazy."

"I know, I know, I'm such a hoot." Bill waved the glass between his fingers. "But you're not bad either! You can handle the fire pretty well!" He approached the crawling figure and gave him a pat on the back. "Too bad for your legs! You weren't quick enough, huh?"

"I was born without legs," the Hexagon’s coughs calmed down and he swallowed a couple of times. "But if I had them now, I would kick your flat base from here to the stars."

Bill laughed again and patted him on the back.

"You're funny!"

"And you almost killed me."

"Twice," added Bill. He snapped his fingers and another glass appeared in his hand. "And you survived both times, so great job, pal! What's your name?"

"H... Hectorgon."

"I’m Bill, he’s Kryptos." He raised his glass towards the Hexagon. "Welcome to the team! Don’t worry: there’s just champagne, this time. You know, to toast with style."

Hectorgon looked at Bill's glass held out to him, then he lowered his mustache to the one in his hand. He looked at Bill again and raised his glass to make them clink. Bill laughed, delighted.

"I like this guy, he's intuitive!" He elbowed Kryptos. "He immediately understands which side he’s better on!" He touched Kryptos's glass with his own. "Let's toast, pals! At the new dawn!"

Hectorgon brought the glass to his lips and tried a first, cautious sip. Kryptos, still dazed and perplexed, looked at the glass and brought it to his lips too. As if invoked by his toast, dawn appeared on the horizon and the bright, yellow light of the star illuminated the burning Solid, caressed the fiery roofs, yellow and red merged with dark and light blue, creating shades of green, music that overlapped, flavors that filled the air.

Bill listened to them, tasted them, and looked at them. He drank his champagne and laughed, laughed at the wondrous chaos he had created, at the infinite worlds that awaited him, at the sea of powers that filled him, a sea of which he had only explored the surface.

"Enjoy this dawn, old friend!" Bill shouted, throwing his glass down from the building, in the direction of the burning villa. "Enjoy my sentence!"

And, before the flames reached them too, Bill snapped his fingers and brought his friends out of there.

"So what you have over your mouth is... mustache?"

"Yes."

"And... what’s a mustache?" Kryptos asked.

"This." Hectorgon combed it between his fingers. "Or, at least, what's left of it."

"Um, yeah, about that..." Bill snapped his fingers and the burnt part grew back. "I didn't want to ruin your look."

"You were pretty lucky to go up the right building," Kryptos told him.

Bill brought them to a different place, away from the burning city. There were no cities to be seen there: on the contrary, there was nothing up to the horizon, apart from the grass meadow on which they were sitting. Were they still in the Solid? Kryptos had no idea.

"I lived there,” Hectorgon replied, "I was the family’s cripple."

"And..." Kryptos looked at him from top to base. "And they kept you?"

"Well, of course, what were they supposed to do? Kill me?" Hectorgon laughed, but his laughter died away immediately. "Oh, no. Don't tell me. In the Plane, they would’ve killed me."

Kryptos looked away and rubbed his arm uncomfortably.

"Well..."

"Yes," Bill replied, without any ceremony. "Because they would’ve seen just an Irregular in you and nothing else."

"Well, maybe you could’ve survived," Kryptos began, unsure, "You’re a Polygon, after all. Maybe they would’ve kept you..."

"By subjecting you to endless checks and by making sure you found the perfect Line, to have kids with good health and, more importantly, with one more side," Bill finished for him.

Hectorgon shifted his invisible gaze from one to the other.

"Can I say something?"

"Say it," Bill invited him.

"That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard."

Bill threw his arms up.

"At last!"

Kryptos took a deep breath.

"They were stupid rules," he said, in one breath. He did not expect that saying it out loud would make him feel better, but a small part of him, deep inside, felt lighter.

He did not even know something was weighing on him. Who knows how long it had been there. He realized he was smiling and his smile widened.

It’s true. They were really stupid rules.

The smile grew wider, at that bold thought. But he had just seen the Third Dimension, the brilliance of colors still burned his gaze and the wonderful height gave such a new perspective to everything!

And it's all thanks to him.

He turned to Bill, still with a smile hesitating on his lips, and saw him with his eye curved in a broad, sly smile.

"Ooooh," he commented, "Aren’t you letting bad company sway you, are you?" Bill teased him.

Kryptos elbowed him and Bill burst into laughter so loud that he fell on his back, his legs kicking in midair.

"What, you couldn't even say that they were stupid?" Hectorgon asked.

"Of course not," Kryptos replied. "It meant going against the Circles, the leaders of our world."

Hectorgon chuckled under his mustache.

"Circles ruling the world," he replied. "I can't even imagine it: in my place, Spheres do a bit of everything."

"Hey." Bill sat down again, with his legs stretched out in front of him and his hands pressed to the ground behind his back, to keep himself up. "You need a nice makeover!"

"Me?" Kryptos lowered his eye to himself. "Why? What's wrong with me?"

Bill raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Okay, fine, but what color?" Kryptos shrugged. "You have yellow and Hectorgon... what was the name, again? Red?"

"Red."

"I don't know which would suit me." Kryptos alternated his gaze between the two. "You’re the color experts. Which color would be better for me?"

Bill rubbed under his eye and squinted his eyelids, considering it.

"I would say something dark," the Hexagon proposed. "A professional and discreet color."

"Professional and discreet," Bill repeated. He winked at Kryptos. "He understood you right away! Okay, let's try something discreet."

He snapped his fingers.

Kryptos blinked, waiting for something to happen.

"Well? " he raised an arm to rub over his eye... and his arm had turned white.

What?

"When...?" The other arm was also white. Kryptos looked down at himself: his shape was not gray anymore, but covered with a rich, dark purple. "How do you ...?"

"I’m not sure about it." Hectorgon pursed his lips. "Too formal."

"It's not the right one," Bill agreed. "It's closer, but it’s not the right color."

"Wait, how...?"

Bill snapped his fingers again.

In the blink of an eye, his arms had turned black. Kryptos looked again: purple had disappeared, replaced by navy blue. He rubbed a hand over his surface, but the color did not come off. He tried to scratch it but with no results. It had become the tone of his skin.

"Perfect!" Bill exclaimed, overflowing with joy. "This is your color!"

Kryptos looked up at him.

"How did you do?"

"I wanted to give you a gift and I did it." Bill winked at him. "Just accept it."

"I like it too," Hectorgon supported him, with a satisfied smile. "Discreet and professional. It's just your style."

"Well, thank you." Kryptos rubbed himself over the eye, a little embarrassed. "I'm still an attorney, after all."

"What?!" Hectorgon replied, surprised. "You’re an attorney?!"

"Amazing, isn't it?" Bill said, delighted. "He's my attorney!"

"Yours?"

"He defended and helped me while I was in prison!"

Hectorgon burst out laughing while combing his mustache.

"I don't even know why I'm surprised."

"I know, I know," Bill answered, with an understanding tone. He gave him pats on the top. "It’s ridiculous that an amazing guy like me was locked in prison, isn’t it? A total waste." He lowered his eye on himself. "Should I also choose a more elegant look? I'm an adult, after all."

"I seriously doubt it." Hectorgon raised a corner of his mouth, giving an ironic inflection to his voice. "How old are you? Fifteen?"

"Twenty-one," Bill replied. He snapped his fingers and a bow tie appeared. He fixed it a few times, and then stroke a pose. "I’m an adult."

Hectorgon turned to Kryptos.

"Tell me you're older than him."

"I’m twenty-three."

Hectorgon raised his arms, in a gesture of exaggerated exasperation, laughing.

"I'm here," he said, "I don't even know where, babysitting two children: that's what my life has become."

"Hey, at twenty-one you’re already an adult!" Bill replied, pouting.

"How old are you, instead?" asked Kryptos.

"Fifty-three."

Kryptos’ mouth dropped and he blinked several times.

"So many?!"

"Wow, ouch," the Hexagon replied, "Am I too old to be part of the gang?"

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Let me guess: in the Plane, I should be already dead."

"You got it, friend." Bill passed his arm around him, speaking in a solemn voice. "The answer to every question related to the Second Dimension is: yes, you should be already dead." His gaze fell on Kryptos. "Don’t you think he’s still missing something, to be a real adult like us?" He asked Hectorgon, in a conspiratorial tone.

"Since when you’re a real adult?"

"I know!" Bill jumped up and snapped his fingers. "Gloves!"

Kryptos raised his hands, covered with gloves of the same dark color.

"Uhm... thanks?"

"What about you, Hectorgon?" Bill turned to the Hexagon. "What do you want to be an even truer adult?"

"Talking to a mature person."

"I see, you’re jealous of my style." Bill chuckled. "But that’s okay! You know what they say: imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."

A snap of his fingers and a bowler hat appeared on the top of the Hexagon, while a green tie appeared at the base.

"I bet you are the bowler type," Bill said. "Consider it an additional gift from your new best friend and style consultant."

Hectorgon took the hat and turned it over in his hands.

"I had one exactly like this, when I was younger." He looked up at Bill. "How the heck did you know?"

"And the tie too!" Bill added. "I'm sure you had it! It gives you that serious adult touch, but also the young and trendy touch."

"Why are we having this conversation?"

"Why are we wasting time here, having conversations?" Bill corrected him. "We have places waiting for us and people to see!"

"Like what?"

"Like a lot." Bill spread his arms wide open. "All the Multiverse."

"You want to see the whole Multiverse?" Hectorgon laughed. "Good luck. Do you have at least a vague idea of how big it is? And no, "a lot" is not an answer."

"I know the Multiverse’s big." Bill put his hands on his sides. "But we have a lot of time!"

"Look, I know that, when you’re young, you think time is infinite..."

"It's not that I think it." Bill winked. "It is."

"What should that mean?"

"That I know what I’m doing." Bill rubbed under his eye. "By the way, you can't crawl all the time while we walk."

"Well, you're the one with special powers, aren’t you?" Hectorgon teased him. He opened his arms wide, in a clear invitation. "Give me a present, gift boy."

Bill snapped his fingers and Hectorgon rose in mid-air, floating in front of them. The Hexagon lowered his hands, turned on himself, bent to look at his base, touched his whole shape. With his mouth still wide open in surprise, he rose in height, went down and moved forward, backward, right, and left. He turned again on himself, waving his arms all around him as if looking for invisible threads or legs.

Bill laughed.

"Satisfied?"

Hectorgon turned to him: his lips were still parted in an expression of pure surprise.

"I’ve never been so happy to have reached that rooftop."

"You’re welcome, my friend." Bill turned back to Kryptos. "While you..."

Kryptos raised his eyebrow, a curious smile on his lips. Bill tapped him over the eye.

"The Sphere was right," he admitted, with a hint of resentment in his voice. "The two-dimensional structure isn’t strong enough to support the weight of gravity. In the long run, you would collapse on yourself."

His smile disappeared and Kryptos took a step back, caught off guard by that macabre sentence.

"Oh." He looked down at his hands and touched his shape as if to make sure it was still intact.

"But don't worry!" Bill's voice was a joyful trill again. Kryptos looked up and saw Bill leaning towards him, beaming with a bright smile. "Your friend Bill is here to solve everything!"

The Triangle raised one hand and gave him another tap with the index finger, still above the eye. Kryptos swayed back and blinked, puzzled. He brought a hand to rub the same spot.

"So..." Bill put his hands on his sides, alternating his gaze from him to Hectorgon. "Shall we go?"

"Wait, what about my problem?"

"Done."

"You solved it?" Kryptos looked at his arms, touched his shape again and blinked a couple of times. "It... it all looks the same to me."

Bill leaned back.

"Trust me," he replied, winking in complicity. "I know what I’m doing. I know a lot of things now!"

"Which things?"

"Many things." His eye was wide, an immense white sea with a black pupil that was the edge of another ocean. "No one is here to hold us back, to tell us what to do or not to do. We can do everything, see everything and know everything."

"And how are you going to do all of that, magic boy?" asked Hectorgon ironically.

Bill narrowed his eye in a sharp smile.

"Have you ever heard of dimensions higher than the Third?"

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 16

"So," Hectorgon summed up, "Each Dimension has a different outcome and we move from one to the other, by jumping through the Sixth Dimension." He looked at the houses that surrounded them. "As we have done right now."

"Exactly!" Bill clapped his hands, satisfied.

"And we came here because you feel there’s someone we need to know," Kryptos continued.

"Precisely."

"Do you realize how stupid it is?" Hectorgon asked.

"Who’s the one with incredible powers that jumps through Dimensions?" Bill replied. "Just trust me."

"Speaking of these powers..." Kryptos began.

"Oh, here we are!" Bill interrupted him, by pointing to a building right across the street. "We arrived!"

Kryptos turned to look, curious. He did not know what he was expecting, but certainly not a low-rise brown building with a rounded roof.

"That one?" Hectorgon's voice had a skeptical note.

"That one."

"You sure?"

"Who's the magical Triangle here?" He tapped Hectorgon on the side. "Just trust me," he repeated and, without adding anything else, he preceded them along the way.

Hectorgon sighed.

"He'll kill us."

"He hasn't done it so far." Kryptos shrugged, with a little smile. "I don't think he’ll do it anytime soon.”

He followed Bill and came closer to look at the building. By far, he did not notice many interesting details in the otherwise simple exterior: the brown of the door was crossed by green streaks, which emitted a faint, emerald light. Other streaks ran through the door handle, a ring of the same intense brown color.

"It's wood," Bill said. He must have noticed his attentive gaze.

"Wood?" Kryptos held out a hand to touch it: it was actually wood. "Do trees have this color here?"

"In many three-dimensional Universes," He confirmed. "It’s a fairly common color."

Brown trees. He almost laughed: what a delightful oddity!

"And what’s this?" Hectorgon approached too and pointed out the two windows: no curtains or shutters were covering them, but something that looked like a thin veil of water. The Hexagon stuck his hand in the middle.

"How’s that? " Kryptos asked.

"Like wind."

"Just an illusion," Bill explained. " It’s good for show and privacy’s guaranteed." He put a hand on the doorknob. "Shall we go in?"

"Go in to see who?" Hectorgon approached him. "And what place is this?"

"I thought it was obvious," Bill answered, looking at him with exaggerated innocence. "It's a bar! Where do you go to meet new people?"

Opened the door, they found themselves in a dimly lit lobby. The light came from yellow globes of light scattered on the walls, half hidden by bundles of green and black feathers. Kryptos looked up and, against the background of the dark ceiling, he saw emerald green rings swimming, emanating a soft green glow.

"But why are we in a bar?" Hectorgon insisted, lowering his voice. "You said you already know who we should meet. Couldn't we meet him in a quieter place?"

Bill got past the lobby and led them between the tables, sliding among customers of all types, colors and sizes. Kryptos' gaze was captured by a huge being, with long curved horns protruding from the top, bent down to speak with a small figure covered in blue fur.

"What, are you shy?" Bill replied, chuckling.

A red flash attracted Kryptos' attention: it was a sinuous creature, with six arms, who sat surrounded by hooded figures. A grumbling pink creature passed in front of him, headed in the opposite direction. Kryptos looked down and, from under the flap of the being’s jacket, he saw the curled end of a green tail.

"I’m not, but you know how it is, I would like to avoid attracting too much attention," Hectorgon replied sarcastically. "You’re a dazzling diva, I’m floating in midair and Kryptos is a two-dimensional being. It's a miracle no one has told us anything yet."

They reached the end of the room: there was another veil of water opened in the wall, identical to the one that covered the windows.

"Thanks. I know I'm fabulous," Bill replied, raising his hand in a charming gesture.

"I'm serious."

Bill turned around.

"It's all under control," he replied. "Just do like Kryptos and enjoy the view: I know what I'm doing."

Before Hectorgon could tell something else, Bill passed the watery veil and went on the other side. The Hexagon let out a long sigh.

"Don't take it personally." Kryptos shrugged. "At the end of the day, he would do as he wants anyway."

"Yeah," Hectorgon replied. "But, you know, there aren’t so many creatures endowed with powers like his, in the Multiverse."

Kryptos stopped a breath from the watery veil.

"No?"

"Of course not." Hectorgon's voice was surprised. "Did you think those powers he has are a common thing?"

Kryptos opened and closed his mouth, hesitant.

"Well, no," he admitted, "But I thought others..."

"There aren’t too many people in the Multiverse who make stuff appear out of thin air or change the physical laws," Hectorgon replied, with a smirk. "That’s why I’d prefer he don’t go around, glowing every time he speaks and attracting everyone’s attention." He shrugged. "But I guess that's how it is, isn't it? He has to stand out." And, with another dramatic sigh of resignation, he also passed the watery veil.

Kryptos followed him, thinking about it. "There aren’t too many people in the Multiverse who make stuff appear out of thin air." That means Bill's new powers were actually special.

So how the heck did he get them?

Beyond the water curtain, there was another room, identical to the previous one but much more crowded. Despite this, Bill moved with steady steps between the tables, dodging the other customers and aiming for something he only knew.

How did he know where to go? How did he know that what he was looking for was right there? How did he know who he was looking for?

In the crowd of huge creatures with dark tones, Kryptos' eye was attracted by a brighter color: it was the intense pink of a figure who sat alone, sipping a glass of emerald green liquid. He glanced at Bill, wondering if his synesthete’s eye had also been captured by that bright tone, if his senses had reacted to that stimulus. Or maybe he was so busy finding the creature he was looking for, that he had not even noticed.

But Bill had noticed and he was pointing precisely to that creature. Before Kryptos or Hectorgon could say anything, he reached its table, moved the chair and sat down in front of it.

"What the heck is he...? " Hectorgon muttered.

"Hi!" Bill greeted the creature with a cheerful tone. "Is that good?"

What is he doing?!

Kryptos quickly approached, his mouth half open, words of apology crowding on his tongue. Before he could let them flow, Bill turned and looked him in the eye: his expression showed only one clear, sharp order.

Silence.

Kryptos closed his mouth. Bill gestured towards the empty sofa to his right: Hectorgon sat down first, obediently. Kryptos followed him and sat down too, without a single word.

"These are my friends," Bill introduced them in the same lively tone, drawing his attention back to the pink creature. "I like your horns."

The creature looked at him from above the glass rim. It had only one eye just like them and a separate mouth, with large lips of a burning pink. It curved them into a smile.

"I like your bow tie," the creature replied, with a high-pitched female voice. She raised her glass. "And that's quite strong."

"Great." Bill raised a hand, attracting the attention of one of the waiters. "Bring four more: three for me and my friends, another for the lady."

The waiter signed everything down and went away.

"Uh, you expect me to get drunk?" The woman laughed. "Nice try. The last male who did it found himself headless." The smile widened, revealing pointed canines and predator's teeth. "You don't have a head, but be sure I’ll find a way to chop it off."

"What’s a male?" Bill asked, naively.

"What you are... I assume." Her smile fell, replaced by a puzzled expression. "Aren’t you a male?"

"I don't even know what it is!"

She tilted her top to the side.

"Are you a woman?"

"Of course not," Bill replied. "In my world, women are Straight Lines. Do I look like a Straight Line?"

"Mmmmh..." She started to look around. "Well, a male is... like the one over there." And she pointed to a being that was sitting two tables to the right. Bill turned to look and Kryptos leaned over too, curious.

The "male" was not so different from her. While a Line was completely different from a multi-sided figure, the "male" was only more rectangular and straight, compared to her who had a more curving shape. How did they distinguish one another, just from that? They should have very sharp eyes.

"Oooh," Bill commented, interested, "So that's a male! Nah, we don’t have this in the Second Dimension: we have Women on one side and countless idiots on the other."

The woman laughed. The waiter came back with the four glasses, put them on the table and left, without casting a single glance.

"Then it's not very different from mine," the woman said. She pushed the glasses towards them and raised her own. Bill touched it in a toast.

"Oh, believe me, ours are much more idiotic," he replied, "All work and no fun."

"Pfff, at least your idiots don't hit on you, because they want to breed with you."

"On the contrary, they’re very interested in that." Bill waved a hand in midair as if to dispel that thought. "But no, thanks. Breeding is the last thing I want."

"But how? An attractive creature like you?" She joked, batting her eyelashes. "You’d find a legion of available women in no time."

"I could say the same about you," he replied, raising his glass in a gallant toast. She accepted it, tilting her top, and they drank together.

Bill lowered his glass first.

"I like your flames."

The woman blinked, taken aback.

"Do you know about my flames?"

"I know it's a shame to hide them."

She put her elbows on the table and supported her top on the intertwined fingers.

"The people who work here are so annoying," she explained. "They’re convinced that if there are flames, something will burn. They kicked me out the first time because they thought I wanted to set the table on fire."

"Nothing’s as it seems," Bill replied. He looked at the woman from above the rim of his glass. "I should’ve been banned from entering, because I can create flames that would burn this bar and the whole Dimension."

Kryptos shivered at that placid, honest confession. In front of his eye flashed the image of the blue flames, beautiful and relentless, which devoured the Plane and enveloped the buildings of the Solid.

The woman laughed instead, thinking it was a joke.

"You’re a fun guy." She raised her glass. "My name’s Pyronica."

"Bill Cipher," he introduced himself. He indicated them with a wave of the hand. "They are Kryptos and Hectorgon. Excuse them, but they’re quite shy."

"I’m just curious," the Hexagon admitted: he was sitting with his arms crossed and, although he had no eyes, Kryptos was sure that he was following the conversation by moving his gaze from one to the other.

"So you're the one who talks, huh?" She leaned over the table. "Does the talking work?"

"Always," he replied. "Even if, last time, it made me end up in prison."

"Oh really?"

"Yes!" He confirmed cheerfully. "I escaped yesterday!"

She leaned her top on one hand. Her smile widened.

"You’re a dangerous guy, then."

"Now I am," he replied, with innocent honesty. "Not before. The leaders of my world have locked me up just for what I said."

"And what did you say?"

"The truth." He shrugged. "And that I wanted to do as I pleased. They didn't like it."

The woman rolled her eye.

"It's always the same with leaders." She emptied the first glass and took the second. "You can never say anything against them, that they immediately take it out on you."

"Is that why you came here to drink? Did they take it out on you?"

"I just said the new leader’s an idiot and that I would’ve been much better." She raised a corner of her mouth. "His friends didn’t like it and tried to attack me altogether."

"Two against one?" Bill guessed.

"Five against one," She clarified, with a smile that showed her pointed canines. "Probably they’re still on the ground, licking their wounds."

"You could’ve killed them."

Pyronica folded her lips in a grimace.

"Then I would’ve had too many people against me." There was a clear hint of anger in her voice. "The Council lies completely with that idiot. People love him and he’s surrounded by friends." She raised her eyebrow. "I don't have anyone."

"Still, you tried to propose yourself as the new leader," Bill replied. "You brought your skills as proof. And they chose Fyer’s babbling."

Kryptos blinked. Fyer?

"He's good at talking, that's all," she replied, sullen.

Bill took a sip and opened his eyelids again.

"They don't deserve you," he said, his tone suddenly serious. "You’re worth a lot more than all of them."

"Pffff." She barely held back a laugh. "No need to hit on me with these pick-up lines..."

"They're not pick-up lines," Bill interrupted her. "It's the truth. I know what you can do. I saw it."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I saw how you shot down that monster all claws and scales, only using a spear and dodging its paws," Bill said. "I saw how you fought against the pack of snow wolves, alone in the middle of the storm, and how you survived by eating their organs. I know that the Multicorn frightened you, but adrenaline was stronger than that and you wanted to be the one who would’ve bathed in his blood. I know you would have won in the battle against the Erogh, if Fyer hadn't hidden that trap that broke your leg, forcing you to retire while he took all the honors for saving you."

Pyronica straightened up in her chair, her eye wide open and her mouth parted.

"How do you know all these things?"

Bill tilted the glass towards her. His eye was once again bent into a smile.

"I can create anything I want," he said, "And destroy everything I don't like. I can read in the mind of anyone in this room and I can burn this bar to the ground, if I just want to."

He reached out and ran a finger over the edge of Pyronica’s glass: a blue flame erupted from the tip of his index finger, the same flame eater of Dimensions. Bill removed his finger and the flame stayed there, drawing a circle of fire around the edge of the glass.

Pyronica stared at it, her eye wide open. Slowly, she looked up at Bill.

"I wasn't kidding," Bill added, with that bright smile. "I burned two Dimensions."

Pyronica was looking at him without a blink, her expression so confused, as if she was trying to make sense of those words. She looked down again at her glass and at the blue flame that danced mildly. She raised her eye again and, this time, there was an extra spark in her pupil.

"Prove it," she challenged him. She put both arms on the table and leaned forward. "Show me it's not just words, come on."

Bill raised the glass and took a sip. He opened his eyelids, lifted the glass and swung it in front of him.

"On your right," he said, staring at the swaying liquid. "The Kryg gets up and throws his glass in the Merzen’s face. A waiter approaches, they push it to the side and say: "Make this fraud pay"."

Pyronica's gaze immediately shifted to the right. Kryptos also looked that way, just in time to see a massive creature get up and throw the content of his glass onto a hairy being. A waiter approached quickly, with notebook and pen in hand, but the creature pushed him aside, saying something in an incomprehensible language. Something that kinda resembled "Make this fraud pay".

How did he know?

He turned to look at Pyronica: her eye was wide open again, her mouth open in an expression of pure amazement. She leaned over to Bill.

"How did you do it?" She hissed, trying to keep her voice down. "Do you see the future?"

"Much more." Bill lowered his glass and winked at her. "I see everything."

Her mouth widened into an enthusiastic smile.

"What else can you do?"

"Many things." Bill leaned towards her. "But, now, I'm here to save your life."

The smile shifted into perplexity, Pyronica raised an eyebrow.

“Uh?"

In the blink of an eye, Bill had risen in midair, turned around and thrown the chair on the ground, all in one fluid movement. Two beams of light stopped a breath from him and turned back, towards two figures standing in front of the water curtain at the entrance of the room.

The two figures moved aside and lifted the long objects they held in their hands. The customers began to scream, chairs were thrown on the ground, some others ran...

And the confusion vanished, replaced by a gray road. Kryptos rubbed his eye, blinked several times. Hectorgon, next to him, kept turning from one side of the road to the other. Pyronica got up on her knees: their gazes met and in her eye, Kryptos saw the same confusion he was feeling.

Then, Pyronica looked at something behind him and her eye widened in surprise.

Kryptos turned and saw Bill. He was floating high in front of them, his golden silhouette shining, his eye wide open, the pupil so thin. Behind him, on the other side of the street, there was the bar in which they were until a moment before.

Kryptos took a step towards Bill and raised a hand, a thousand questions that stirred in his mind and a thousand others that crowded on his lips. Bill's black pupil moved down to look at him.

And the bar exploded into a red and orange cloud, with a roar that filled the air. A warm wind, smelling of fire and embers, hit them in full: Kryptos took a step back and raised his arm, protecting his eye from the ash. When he managed to lower it, the only thing visible in that show of fire and flames was Bill’s silhouette, black on the yellow background, untouched by fire, his eye that watched him from above, without joy or fear, with the expression

of a God

of placid indifference. As if he expected it. As if he already knew.

An ancestral fear, irrational and never felt, made Kryptos feel small, made his knees weak. Terror and admiration mingled at the center of his shape and Kryptos stood still, looking at that triangular shape, captivated.

Is that what one feels before a God?

"What happened?"

Pyronica's voice shook Kryptos out of his thoughts and made him turn around. She was still on her knees, looking at Bill with wide-open eye, the pink hair on her top still pushed back by the warm, fiery wind.

"They wanted to kill you," Bill replied and his silhouette lit again with yellow light, it shone more dazzling than the fire that was burning behind him. "They were two hitmen."

A spark of understanding flashed in Pyronica's eye.

"Fyer," she murmured. "And you saved me."

"I told you: you’re worth a lot more than all of them."

“They don't deserve you. You’re worth a lot more than all of them."

"And we came here because you feel there’s someone we need to know."

"Each Dimension has a different outcome and we move from one to the other, by jumping through the Sixth Dimension."

A flash of understanding flickered in Kryptos' mind, the pieces fitted together and thoughts turned into words, which slipped out of his lips with the same ease.

"You knew from the start," he said. "You knew this would happen. That's why we came here."

Bill looked at him. His eye twisted into a smile.

"Yes."

That flat, honest observation broke the thread of his thoughts, scattered the pieces of understanding. Kryptos opened and closed his mouth, looking for words without finding them.

Bill's gaze returned to Pyronica.

"In my dimensional line, Fyer’s assassins killed you two days ago," he revealed. "In the nearest dimensional line, when that trap broke your leg, you didn't run away fast enough, so the Erogh reached and killed you. In another line, Fyer arrived before them and he was the one to kill you, then he blamed the enemies. In yet another, your leg got gangrene and you died after two days because of the infection. In many other lines, you died in that bar: you didn't see the hit men enter, you didn't run away in time, a waiter came after you and slowed you down, you were hit by fleeing customers. In other lines, you didn't even get to the bar. In others, Fyer's friends have ambushed and killed you."

He spread his arms as if to encompass the street, the burning bar behind him and the whole Dimension.

"This is the only dimensional line where I could still find you alive. The only one where Fyer hadn't been able to kill you already. And this was the only way to save you."

"But so... you killed all the others..."

Bill turned his gaze to Kryptos, who flinched. He had not realized that he had expressed that thought aloud.

But Bill's eye folded again into a gentle, affectionate smile. A smile that overlapped the echo of the blue flames.

"She’s worth much more than all those empty, pathetic lives."

"Only you were on my side. You’re the only one who deserved to be saved."

Cold spread from the center of his shape and Kryptos stepped back. Bill returned his eye to Pyronica: she was still on her knees, eye wide open and lips parted, dazed by that information.

"In all dimensional lines Fyer killed you and in none of them he did it fair. Across all lines, your people chose to believe him, instead of recognizing your worth."

He held out a hand.

"You don't need a bunch of idiots who don't appreciate you and a lying leader, ready to sabotage you as soon as he has the chance. You need a friend. Someone who recognizes your potential and lets you use it in full. Someone who offers you new challenges, new possibilities, who makes you go beyond your limits. Why should you settle for your little Dimension, when you can have trillions of worlds at your fingertips? Join me and you will no longer have to hide what you think and what you are."

Pyronica looked at him, enraptured by his words. She looked at that outstretched hand, which was waiting just for her. Her eye returned to Bill, to his dazzling shape, to that omniscient gaze full of future promises.

"Who are you really?" She asked.

Bill chuckled and his shape shone playfully with him.

"Just a friend," he replied, with a wink. "One who wants to see you shine."

A smile made Pyronica's lips flicker upwards and a small laugh shook her figure too. The woman bowed her head as she planted a foot on the ground, then stood up.

Tongues of white fire burst from the edge of her shoes and followed her as she got up: the flames rolled around her ankles, rose up her legs, and flared up around her thighs. Flames of the same color bloomed from the tips of her fingers and wrapped around her arms, then went up on her shoulders, releasing tongues of fire around her.

Pyronica looked up again: in her eye, amazement had given way to a predatory spark, which shone with the same intensity as her white flames.

"An opportunity that only happens once in a lifetime," she said ironically.

Bill shared the smile, his hand still outstretched. Pyronica took a step towards him.

"I want to take revenge on Fyer first."

"No problem."

The flames flickered, Pyronica's smile widened.

And, without adding anything else, she shook his hand.

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 17

Bill snapped his fingers and the space around them changed.

Kryptos blinked, bewildered by the sudden dimensional jump. The burning street and bar were gone: Bill had brought them into a bedroom, with shields and trophies hanging on the walls. Two long crossed swords hung over a large extinguished fireplace and a shorter one was placed next to the door.

There was a creature sitting at the desk, its back turned on them: the unknown figure was very similar to Pyronica, but with more curved horns and longer hair on its top. Its shape was not of the same bright pink, but of a deep red. Like Pyronica, that creature also had flames that covered its arms and legs, but they were of a bright red, with darker shades.

Kryptos turned to Pyronica: a glance at her half-closed eye and her predatory smile was enough to connect the pieces.

Bill tapped her on the shoulder: Pyronica turned and he held out to her the short sword next to the door. Pyronica slipped it out of the sheath and moved towards Fyer, who sat at his desk, unaware of their presence.

Once she reached him from behind, Pyronica grabbed his hair with one hand and forced his top to bend back, walking the blade past his eye.

Fyer gasped and struggled in her grip. With one arm, he brushed the papers off the desk and they fell with a light rustle. He tried to speak and only whispers came out of his mouth. He kicked one desk leg and the whole desk moved, without the slightest sound.

How’s that possible…? Kryptos looked at Bill: he sat in mid-air, his arms crossed while watching Pyronica with a spark of fun in his eye.

"Rule now, great leader," Pyronica whispered, her voice barely audible in the silence. She let go of Fyer's top and took half a step back, the blade already raised. Fyer did not have time to turn around: the blade dropped and his top was chopped off, to fall on the documents, covering them with red blood. More blood spattered on the desk, covered its black and dripped on the floor. Fyer's arms fell to his sides, the flames that covered them gave a final flicker and gradually went out.

Pyronica threw the sword on the ground and turned to Bill. The blade also hit the floor without the slightest noise.

Bill raised a hand towards her. Are you satisfied?

Pyronica nodded firmly.

Bill snapped his fingers again and they went away.

He could do so much and it was only the surface.

A deep part inside, a multicolored whisper repeated that there was much more. An ocean of abysmal depths just waiting to be explored. Music that never left him, a confused, unclear orchestra, which was only filtered by its yellow could take a direction.

He looked at a universe and saw its outcomes stretch into the Fifth Dimension, space-time branches extending from the same tree, like those that had been shown to him on a piece of paper a lifetime ago. With every blink, the branches sang, smelled, changed shape, in a constantly moving kaleidoscope. And the Sixth Dimension connected them, through a series of space-time corridors that were his corridors, his passages to jump from one Dimension to another. Faster than any portal, without waiting for them to open, without doubting where they would lead. Those were roads whose destination he already knew and which led him exactly where he wanted.

And he could go through them all. He was the spider that moved on dimensional threads. The listener who jumped from one point of the song to another. And the hexadimensional roads were only part of the highway that he saw extending to the limits of his field of vision.

But now he had time, all the time of the Multiverse and much more. No more Circles ready to lock him in jail or Spheres that wanted to send him back to the two Dimensions. He was no longer forced into a grain of sand: now he had the whole beach to explore.

And companions to share everything with.

He turned to look at Hectorgon, Kryptos and Pyronica. Their colors sang together, creating a perfect harmony of tuba, cello and piano. Their flavor was sweet and spicy, strange on the tongue and strange to the eye, the contrasting scent of wet and fresh was accompanied by the familiar smell of paper. It was wonderful. It was new. It was strange.

"Let's go," he said to them, "There’s still so much to explore!"

Long ribbons of neon light curled and danced around them, bright against the black backdrop of the universe they were visiting. The ribbons made loops, avoided each other, slalomed among the bubble of light that shone around: some were of the same bright pink as Pyronica, others were green, others blue and only very few, in the distance, emitted a soft yellow light.

Kryptos sat down on a pink bubble, ten times his size. Hectorgon looked out from the sphere that was floating above and let himself fall, to land next to him. His hat rolled away from his top and Kryptos grabbed it before it fell into the black.

"It's not the first time," he said, waving the bowler hat in front of him.

"If I lose it, Bill would create a new one for me." Hectorgon laughed. He rose in midair and floated a few centimeters from the surface of the bubble, placing himself at the same height as Kryptos.

"This place’s nice," he commented, combing his mustache. "A little empty, apart from the colors. But I guess it's more than crowded for Bill."

A green ribbon came in their direction, swaying like an eel. A breath away from them, the strip turned to the right, far enough to avoid them, but close enough for Kryptos to touch it: he slipped his hand in the middle and the strip of light split into two smaller ones, which kept swimming away.

"At least there aren’t other creatures that treat us like Gods."

"Oh, come on, Hirleon wasn't a bad universe." Hectorgon managed to close his hand around another ribbon of light. As soon as he did it, the ribbon dissolved. "It was very peaceful."

"Too much. And Bill got bored."

Hectorgon laughed.

"I told you, he’s a child," he joked. "He always needs to be entertained. I’ve seen babies more mature than him."

"Considering there wasn’t too much to see, we stayed on Hirleon for a very long time."

"Does five years seem "a very long time" to you?"

Kryptos turned to look at him.

"What are you saying?" he replied. "We’ve been on Hirleon for fifty years."

Hectorgon gasped.

"Fifty?!" He repeated. "It’s not possible. All this time? It seems like yesterday we arrived!" He raised his hand between them. "And we’ve known each other for more than fifty years?!"

"Much more." Kryptos looked at his hands. "At first I counted years, as we jumped from one Dimension to another. Then one day I lost count. I started again just on Hirleon."

Hectorgon rubbed his mustache.

"Is it possible?" His voice was full of amazement. "Are we really this old?"

Kryptos turned his gaze to Bill and Pyronica: they were on a pink bubble, about thirty meters from them. Bill was floating and creating new beams of light around Pyronica, which chased and tried to eat them.

"No," Kryptos murmured. "Since we met, we haven't aged a day. Bill remained exactly the same as fifty years ago and we with him."

The Hexagon gave a nervous laugh.

"Does jumping through the Sixth Dimension make you younger?"

Kryptos turned again to look at him.

"I think it's another one of his powers," he replied. "A much longer lifespan." He put his hands on his shape. "I should’ve died years ago."

"You should’ve died countless times, considering all the stupid laws of your Dimension," Hectorgon replied, "It’s a miracle you survived long enough to meet him."

Kryptos looked again at his hands, covered in blue gloves. He looked at his shape, of the same navy blue. The perfect color for him, the color that Bill had given him. He remembered his serious expression as he looked him up and down.

"The Sphere was right. The two-dimensional structure isn’t strong enough to support the weight of gravity. In the long run, you would collapse on yourself."

He had tapped him over the eye.

"Done."

And it all worked out. The impossible had become possible. The problem that prevented Lelx Yipnon from staying in the Third Dimension, the reason he had been forced to go home, had been solved with one, simple touch.

And Kryptos had been exploring the Third Dimension for years, never collapsing under his own weight.

"You no longer asked yourself."

"What?" Hectorgon asked.

"How does he have those powers," Kryptos replied. "Where does he find them."

The Hexagon chuckled.

"You’re the one who was in the Plane with him, you should be the one to tell me," he replied. "He didn't tell you?"

"No."

Hectorgon grabbed another ribbon of neon light, which dissolved between his fingers, releasing a series of sparks.

"What was he like?" He asked. "Before the powers, I mean."

Kryptos lowered his hands and returned his gaze to Bill. A ribbon of pink light was unraveling from the tip of his finger: Pyronica opened her mouth wide, trying to eat it, but the shiny ribbon avoided her and float around, escaping her grasp. Bill laughed.

"Frustrated," Kryptos replied. "He’d just begun to see the Multiverse and had been kicked out of it before he could see more. He was angry, both with the Circles and with the Sphere. And he had this... need." He brought a hand on himself. "An insatiable desire to know everything. He wanted to see everything and know everything."

Hectorgon went back to combing his mustache.

"I don't know if that was it," Kryptos continued. "I don't know if it’s possible that such a strong desire could give birth to supernatural powers. In the Second Dimension, no one ever had similar powers and so far we’ve never met a creature with his same abilities." He sighed. "But we’ve also never even met a creature who wanted with the same strength as Bill."

Hectorgon held out his hand to grab a new ribbon of green light, but it bent up and went away, avoiding his fingers.

"Usually I would tell you it’s not possible," he said. "But you’re not wrong: Bill is... pretty unique. Even in a strange and wide place like the Multiverse. If there’s someone who can acquire divine powers just by wanting it, well, that's him."

Pyronica had abandoned the chase of the pink ray and was now trying to eat Bill, who circled her, laughing as he avoided her flames and teeth.

Kryptos smiled too.

"You’re right."

Hectorgon leaned his elbow against Kryptos side.

"Hey."

"Mh?"

"What were you like, before you met him?"

"Me?" Kryptos chuckled, embarrassed. "I told you, I was an attorney."

"A tilted attorney, so according to your stupid rulers you were an Irregular, right?"

"Actually no," Kryptos replied. "I spent most of my life doing medical checks and never once there was a hint of irregularity." He sighed and shrugged. "But the others didn't care, because all they saw was a crooked Square."

"Unnerving, I guess. Did you have to explain everything every time?"

"I had nothing to explain," he replied. “I was regular. No explanation needed." He clenched his fists. "I didn't want to give explanations. I never wanted to feel it was an obstacle or a disadvantage. But for others, it was. That’s why they only called me as a court-appointed attorney, for cases that were already decided. All I had to do was occupy a chair during the trial."

Hectorgon put an arm around him.

"Console yourself," he replied. "I was the cripple, so I was the chair. Because I couldn't walk, for some people I couldn't even see, hear or speak. I lost count of the number of times they left me in a corner of the room, while everyone else was talking about me and for me."

"Really?" Kryptos' eye widened. "Even in a world as evolved as the Solid?"

"Even in the Solid," he confirmed.

"Guys!"

They both turned to look: Bill and Pyronica’s bubble of light was approaching them. She was lying on her front, waving her legs. Bill’s eye curved into a broad smile.

"What are you doing? What are you talking about?"

"Am I wrong or has a meddler just appeared?" Hectorgon replied, nudging Kryptos. Bill reached them by floating and sat between them.

"You talked about me, didn't you?" His eye narrowed in a delighted smile.

"It's not all around you, Mr. God," Hectorgon teased him.

"Well, according to the Hirleyans, I was the embodiment of their star." He brought a hand over his eye, in a charming gesture. "So yes, literally everything revolves around me."

"Here he starts again." Hectorgon lowered his voice, pretending to speak secretly to Kryptos and Pyronica. "How many vote to leave him here?"

"You would never abandon me," Bill replied, poking one side with the tip of his finger.

"Do you know it because you saw it in the future?"

"I know because I know you adore me."

"Look, it’s Pyronica the one who loves you," Hectorgon replied, laughing.

Pyronica rolled onto her back and looked at them upside down. Laughing, she put a hand over her mouth and blew a kiss to Bill.

"And this makes her not only the best," Bill replied, grabbing her kiss. "But also the one with better taste."

"If anything, she’s the one who got deceived first."

"Don't make me angry, little Hexagon." Pyronica rolled again on her stomach, a wide grin on her lips. "I could burn you with my powerful flames!"

"You should catch me first, dangerous huntress," he joked.

"Since when you’re the fast one in the group?"

"Since you three slackers didn’t do anything," he replied, raising his hands to indicate them. "While the three of you were sitting on your bases all the time, waiting on hand and foot, I kept moving around." He turned on himself. "And then I float, which makes me faster."

"Bhooo, it doesn't mean anything!" Pyronica objected, waving her legs. "I can beat you without even trying! Even here, jumping from bubble to bubble!"

"So show me what you can do, huntress!" Hectorgon challenged her, then ran past her, laughing. Pyronica jumped up and, with a wide grin, went off in pursuit.

"Ah, I love those kids," Bill laughed, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye.

"Never a day of boredom," Kryptos agreed.

Bill stretched his legs out in front of him and propped himself on his arms to keep himself straight. His eye still shone with lively amusement.

A laugh caught his attention: Kryptos turned just in time to see Pyronica jump on the bubble above her, still following Hectorgon who was floating vertically.

He glanced at Bill, expecting to see him snickering at that sight. Instead, his eye was fixed, lost to look at something that was not there, absorbed in unattainable thoughts.

"What are you thinking?" Kryptos asked.

Bill blinked and looked at him.

"What will Bill's next step be?” He replied, his eye bent into a smile. "Where will he take us when he gets tired of this place?"

Kryptos looked down with an embarrassed smile, recognizing his own thoughts.

"Don't worry." Bill gave him a friendly push. "I'll take you to a nice place. Have I ever shown you a bad Dimension so far?"

"Well, no." Kryptos interwined his fingers. "But will it be safe? You are... weapons cannot touch you. But we…"

Bill snorted.

"Do you think I’ve been so far behind?" He replied. "Of course I've already thought about it! And I’ve solved the problem too! Normal weapons can't do anything to you anymore."

Kryptos looked up.

"When did you do it?"

"On Hirleon," he replied, shrugging. "Someone could’ve had the crazy idea of sacrificing one of the Gods, to get better harvests. They should just keep killing their animals, instead! Seriously, they were so backward..."

"Have you extended our lifespan?"

The question came out of him in one breath. Bill blinked, taken aback by the interruption, and then burst out laughing.

"What’s the use of having all the time to explore and know more, if you can't share it with your friends?" He replied.

"Well... thanks."

"It's nothing special, just a snap," he replied, accompanying his words with a snap of his fingers.

Kryptos looked at him from the top to the base, pausing on his fingers.

"It's all so simple, for you," he said, with admiration in his voice. "Is there a limit to what you can do?"

"Oh, I’ve no idea!" He admitted, cheerfully. "So little time has passed and I'm still exploring the surface! But I know that if I go deeper, there’s an ocean of other possibilities I haven’t yet experienced."

He snapped his fingers and created a white flame with pink shades, identical to those of Pyronica. With a wave of the hand, the flame became a glass. Another movement and the glass became a white bubble, which widened more and more, to reach the size of the other spheres that surrounded them.

"I know I can't create life," he continued, as the sphere rose vertically, moving away from them. "But I can create everything else and destroy everything. I can move through the Sixth Dimension without problems, by bringing others with me. My vision has become a kaleidoscope of temporal probabilities to choose from and, for each choice, I can see what universe it would lead to."

Kryptos was amazed.

"And how many universes can you see?"

"Billion per second."

"Bi... billion per second?!" He stammered. "But how... how can you stand it?"

"That's what I wanted," he replied. "To know everything and to see everything. Now I can do it. I can see and know everything. I ignore some things because they’re not so important. I avoid looking at others because I want to be surprised when they will occur. And I look at many others just out of curiosity."

"That’s incredible," Kryptos commented. "And... and how far can you see?"

Bill's eye curled into another smile.

"Enough."

"And your synesthesia?"

"Oh, that makes it even more fun!" He said, lively. "Everything moves and turns, both in space and time. The colors of this Dimension and of this timeline intertwine with those of its future, but also with those of the other timelines and their futures!" He burst out laughing "It’s such a wonderful chaos!"

Bill turned to look at him and, in his eye, Kryptos saw a spark. The same spark he had seen that night, when he had opened his eye on the burning Second Dimension and had seen him, a silhouette against the fire, who turned to look at him.

The spark of madness.

"Come here, my friend. Enjoy the show."

Kryptos exhaled and, for a moment, he was back in the cell, surrounded by shabby gray walls, listening to his client, who was rebuilding for him the fantastic worlds he had visited. For a moment, he was again a gray attorney of the Plane, mocked for his geometric imperfection.

He blinked and the cell walls disappeared. His client was no longer gray, but made of bright light. And, in the vast, polyhedric space of the Multiverse, his imperfection disappeared.

He felt a warm relief in the center of his shape, at the thought of not being locked up in that cage anymore.

A shriek from Pyronica attracted their attention: she had slipped from one of the spheres of light and fallen on the lower one.

"I won!" Hectorgon declared.

"You cheated!" She argued. "I won!"

"You wish!”

"Let's make another run, then!" She proposed. "Show me if you're so strong, grandpa!"

"Who are you calling “grandpa”?!"

"Want to join them?" Bill lifted himself from the bubble and snapped his fingers. "Now you can fly too. And wait for Pyronica to notice that she can do it too! It’ll kill Hectorgon." He chuckled.

Kryptos watched Bill float in front of him, his whole shape shining yellow every time he spoke. He looked like a small lamp in the black of that universe, as bright as the ribbons of light that surrounded them.

"Bill," he called.

Bill turned around.

"Are you still a Shape?" he asked.

Bill floated closer, leaned over and held out his hand. His eye narrowed into another smile.

"Have I ever been?"

A laugh bloomed spontaneously on his lips and Kryptos let it out. He shook a hand, as if to dispel that question, then held it out, to grasp the one Bill had offered him.

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 18

The dimensional jumps continued.

Kryptos kept track of the years, but he lost it again at seventy. Time no longer made sense, after all. What mattered was knowing, exploring, seeing.

Bill took them to the peaks of colossal mountains and accompanied them among millennial trees, under the curtain of branches that touched the ground, overflowing with fruits. They slipped together into abyssal caves with agate-covered walls, shiny like mirrors, in which their image was reflected in concentric colors. They walked along savannahs whipped by the wind, watching the moons follow one another in the sky above them. They went to another one hundred thousand bars, walked through dozens of cities, visited billions of markets.

Each place was saturated with information, objects, languages, thoughts. While sitting together under the stars, they ate what many peoples considered the food of gods. They tasted time punch and spent hours laughing, drunk after two glasses. They tried liqueurs that emitted fire, clouds solidified with a touch of lemon, bones turned inside out. They slipped into places frequented only by bandits, looking for extreme dishes not within everyone's reach. They hunt down and killed mythological animals, to try meats that were considered magical.

Bill taught them the Common Multiverse Language and the things to discover and learn multiplied a hundredfold. They managed to communicate with centuries-old creatures, listened to their stories about the creation of the world. They heard travelers talking about their expeditions to the center of their planets and across boundless oceans, to find lost treasures. They listened to musicians, who played instruments that no one was able to build anymore. They talked to scientists and scholars, who considered it impossible to voluntarily jump through the Sixth Dimension.

And again they continued to move, to know, to see.

Bill snapped his fingers twice in a row.

The second snap echoed in his mind much longer than usual, even after their arrival. Kryptos swayed on his legs: his shape was dizzy, his inside turned upside down and rolled up. He looked down: it made him feel nauseous, so he looked up immediately.

Hectorgon was swaying in midair, with both hands over his mouth. Pyronica was on the ground and was taking long breaths: her flames flickered irregularly, the pink shades brighter than usual.

"It was horrible," she commented. She turned to Bill. "We always make one jump at a time. What happened?"

Kryptos followed the direction of her gaze: Bill was turned the other way around and was standing still, his arm raised and fingers suspended in the act of snapping. Kryptos approached him and moved around to meet his gaze.

But Bill was not looking in front of him. His eye was focused on something far away, beyond the boundaries of that Dimension. Kryptos had already seen that distant gaze, centuries before: it was the look of when he was searching for something, poking through all possible universes.

"Bill?" He called carefully.

"Here…"

"Here what?" Kryptos asked.

Bill turned to him. His eye was wide open, the black pupil a crack that overlooked the abyss. As he stared at him, he snapped his fingers again.

"Hey!"

Kryptos turned: Hectorgon was no longer floating but had fallen on his front.

"What are you doing?!" The Hexagon loudly protested, while raising himself on his forearms. "Are you crazy?!"

Pyronica approached: as she held out a hand to touch Hectorgon, the flames that enveloped her arms went out. Stunned, she lifted them both in front of her face and saw the last tongues of fire fade away.

She turned her confused gaze to Bill.

"What are you doing?"

"Did you hit your top, with that double jump?" Hectorgon protested again. "I remind you I don't have legs! I would appreciate a little help here!"

Kryptos looked back at Bill: his eye was brighter, more focused and no longer a window on the abyss. He blinked a few times and it looked like he was finally back.

"It’s all right," he said, turning to Hectorgon and Pyronica. "Try to be as harmless as possible."

"What does that mean...?"

Before Kryptos could finish his sentence, Bill put a hand on his own shape and the yellow stopped flashing with his words.

Then portals opened all around and they were surrounded by laser weapons.

"Freeze! You’ve crossed the border without permission!" shouted one of the creatures: it had claws instead of a mouth and tentacles as arms. "Unauthorized arrivals are not accepted!"

"A border?" Bill repeated, his tone trembling and innocent. He blinked, looking around with a bewildered expression. "We were just taking a walk..."

"Lies!" The creature shouted. "Drag them in prison!"

Kryptos opened his mouth and tried to say something, but a being closed his wrists with handcuffs and dragged him through the portal from which he had arrived.

Compared to the dimensional jumps that Bill could make - instantaneous and without side effects, apart from slight disorientation - crossing a portal was like jumping through a cold and viscous jelly, floating in midair for a second and immediately falling back on the ground. His knees bent for the sudden return of gravity, his jailer yanked him and Kryptos fell forward: the being kept dragging him as if nothing had happened.

Kryptos tried to get up, if only to look around and see where the heck they were taking him, but his feet slipped on the smooth floor. He tried to pull his arms towards him, in a weak attempt to make his jailer stop - or at least to slow him down, but the creature ignored him completely.

And then, suddenly, it stopped.

"Back off, you scum!" The creature ordered, while accompanying his words with a loud noise of metal against metal. Something opened with a metallic squeak and Kryptos was thrown forward, eye on the ground.

Where am I?

He put his hands on the sides and managed to get up, by lifting with his legs. The guard had taken him into a rectangular cell, already occupied by at least twenty different creatures. Some stood against the walls, others were crouched on the ground, others sat on benches that were anchored to the floor. Kryptos turned around: there was a corridor beyond the cell bars and, on the other side, another cell full of creatures of all kinds, just like his own.

The sound of shaken handcuffs drew his gaze back into his cell: Pyronica was waving her arms, her lips folded into a pout, her eye on Bill.

"Why are we here?"

Bill was looking around: his eye was wide open, focused, and it shone with curiosity. He took a few steps into the cell, reached an empty bench and climbed up to sit on it, with some difficulty given by the handcuffs. Once seated, he started looking around again, waving his legs in midair.

Pyronica stopped in front of him: only then, Bill lifted his eye on her and smiled.

"I wanted to see a cell!" He exclaimed cheerfully.

Pyronica let out a sigh of exasperation.

"You've already seen a cell, haven't you?" She shrugged. "What’s the difference?"

"The last one I saw was two-dimensional," he replied as if it were obvious. He started looking around again, curious. "I wanted to see a three-dimensional one. Mine didn’t have bars."

"Hey, you, get lost." A Vetrano intruded into their conversation, puffing smoke from his nostrils. His five eyes were bloodshot. "That's my bench."

Bill looked at him, flickering his eyelashes while waving his legs.

"Oh, really?" He asked innocently. "Has it your name on?"

The Vetrano lifted his lips, showing two rows of sharp teeth, and puffed his shoulders, making spikes appear under the skin. His muscles swelled and his eyes narrowed, his whole figure ready for a fight.

Pyronica stood between him and Bill.

"Move," he growled, swelling the muscles even more.

Pyronica gave him her placid, predatory smile.

"No, you move," she challenged him.

"Now, now, we just got here a few moments ago, after all." Bill slipped off the bench and took Pyronica by the elbow. "Let him have it."

Without giving her time to say a word, Bill dragged her away. The Vetrano snorted and sat down in the center of the bench, casting grim looks on all the other prisoners.

"Okay, now you’re being ridiculous," Pyronica complained. "Let me fight. I won't kill him: I'll just let him bleed until he learns how to behave."

"Forget him, we don't need a bench," Bill answered, giving her a big smile. "We have our friendship!"

"Are you done?"

Kryptos turned around, recognizing Hectorgon's voice. The Hexagon was lying on his back, arms crossed and lips curled into a pout. Bill let go Pyronica's arm and moved closer, then leaned over to look at his friend from above.

"Nice ceiling, don’t cha think?"

"How long do you wanna stay here?" Hectorgon asked.

"We broke the law!" Bill replied, in a shocked tone. He put both hands on the shape and flickered his eyelashes again, with exaggerated innocence. "Now we have to pay for our wrongdoings!"

Pyronica rolled her eye.

"Yes, yes, sure." She nodded towards Hectorgon. "So? What do you have in mind?"

Bill looked at her with his pupil wide open.

"Me? Just doing the right thing." He brought his hands to the eye and let out a melodramatic gasp, shifting his gaze from her to Hectorgon. "You think I have other plans?! Is this your opinion of me, guys?" He put a hand over his eye and pretended to faint. "I’m so offended."

Kryptos raised an eyebrow, Hectorgon a corner of his mouth and Pyronica looked him from top to toe. Bill straightened up, crossed his arms and gave them his best sulky expression.

"You always complain I don't respect the rules..."

"We never complained," Kryptos replied.

"That’s all you’ve done since we met," Hectorgon said.

"Was there ever a time when you respected them?"

"Ah, good one." Bill snapped his fingers towards Pyronica. "But yes, now and then, even I respect the rules." He raised his arms. "Especially those of this beautiful Dimension."

"We haven't seen anything of this Dimension, how can you say it's beautiful?" Hectorgon asked.

"Wait..." Kryptos alternated his gaze from Bill to his hands. "Where are your handcuffs?"

"We’re seeing this beautiful cell," Bill answered, ignoring Kryptos' question. "And its funny occupants! Aren’t you happy, that I took you here?"

"I'm not punching you, just because I hope this stupid game of yours is worth something."

Bill laughed and walked over to Hectorgon, to pat him on the surface.

"It's worth it, my friend," he replied, returning to his usual tone. He turned to look at something behind Kryptos. "Be patient for a couple more minutes."

Kryptos blinked and turned, looking for what had attracted Bill's attention. All he saw was a group of bipeds gathered in a corner, a bunch of four-legged beings crouched down and a rabbit-crab from Dimension 9, who completely ignored him, snapped his claws and turned towards the group of bipeds.

By following his gaze, Kryptos noticed something was stirring in the center of the group: many bipeds had their back turned towards him and they were muttering something, their heads bent down. Spying between their legs, Kryptos saw a small creature, shades of turquoise that peeked through the black clothes. And the bipeds were kicking it, murmuring rough sounds in an unknown language.

A snort behind him made Kryptos turn back: Bill had approached, annoyance written all over his shape. He fixed his bow tie - seriously, where were the handcuffs? - and walked towards the group.

"Cut it out." He grabbed the jacket of one of the bipeds and forced him to turn around. "You’re annoying. And let that guy take a breath."

"Mind your business!" The creature replied, in Common Language. He lifted an arm to slap Bill's hand away but, before he could touch him, Pyronica grabbed his wrist and held it up.

"You start first," she said with an icy tone, squeezing his arm. The bipedal tugged his arm, tried to free himself or move away but Pyronica's grip was still, like that of a vice.

The bipedal looked at her with wide eyes, anger and fear alternating in his pupils. He clung to Pyronica's fingers and tried to pull them off, unsuccessfully. He grabbed his trapped hand with the free one, put his feet down and pulled his arm with all his strength, gritting his teeth from the effort to free himself.

Pyronica let go of his arm and the bipedal lost his balance. He bumped into another one of the group and they both fell on the ground, tripping on a third guy and breaking the circle. Some creatures around moved to help them get up, others backed away and, in the confusion, Bill managed to reach the creature on the ground. He stretched out a hand without being noticed by anyone, helped him to his feet and, while keeping an arm around his shoulders, brought him out of the circle.

A couple of bipeds noticed it and tried to follow them, their mouths already open to protest. Pyronica moved in their way: their steps came to a halt, their mouths closed, protests went out and the bipeds retreated, gathering in a corner.

Kryptos looked away and brought his attention back to Bill, just in time to see him help the turquoise creature sit against the cell bars. Like the bipeds that were hitting him, that creature also had two arms, two legs and a torso. What made it different was its head: rectangular, much larger than the rest of the body and with a large cavity in the center, in the shape of a lock.

The creature looked up at Bill: it had two eyes, one of which was half-closed, and bruises all over his body. One in particular was a giant purple spot that covered half of its arm and the creature kept rubbing it, as far as the handcuffs allowed it.

"Better?" Bill asked.

"Better," it replied with a smile, which looked more like a grimace of pain "Thanks."

"Why'd they come after you?"

"We’d already seen each other before," it explained. "I had robbed them and they remembered me."

"Why did you rob them?"

The creature shrugged, a gesture that cost it a small groan of pain.

"I always do," it answered, while carefully touching its shoulders, as if to make sure it had nothing broken. "Always stealing something here, something there, little things. Then I end up in prison, but I go out every time." Its lips lifted again, in a smug grin. "No door can lock me up."

"Same for me!" Bill replied, lively. He held out his hand. "Name’s Bill, and you?"

"Keyhole."

"Have you been into a lot of prisons?"

"Just some," Keyhole answered. "At first, I ended up in a lot. But since I went into business with my partner, escaping has become much easier."

"And have you also visited many Dimensions?" Bill's eye shone with curiosity.

"Quite a few." Keyhole shrugged, but the gesture caused him another grimace of pain. "When you escape from prison, suddenly everyone starts looking for you and you can no longer walk in the same city, because someone might recognize your face. In the end, you have to leave. Only once I stayed too long, and we got caught again. We managed to escape, only because my partner dug our way, by chewing through it. Literally."

"When I escaped, I burned everything," Bill replied, with pure innocence.

"Such a blatant revenge," Keyhole answered with a small laugh. "I prefer a quieter way. If the guards don't remember me, I can stay in one Dimension for longer. But it rarely works." He indicated himself, with a sad smile. "Unfortunately I don't go unnoticed."

"Neither do I!" Bill exclaimed, delighted.

"You wouldn't go unnoticed, even if you were invisible," Hectorgon commented, still with his arms crossed and facing the ceiling. Keyhole gave him a questioning look, but Bill caught his attention back.

"Isn’t that great? We have a lot in common!" He kept on. "Tell me, why are you stealing around? Admit it, you just do it just because it's fun."

"Actually, I don't enjoy it a lot," he admitted, with another sad smile. "But stealing brings me good money and, with that, my partner and I can eat well, sleep well and make it through tomorrow."

"Why, what are you stealing?" Kryptos asked, interested. Keyhole shrugged again, this time without painful grimaces.

"Coins, pins, jewelry. In short, precious things. Weapons are too bulky to steal, while idol statues are worth a fortune, but they’re impossible to resell. On the other hand, jewels and precious stones can be hidden quickly, they’re easy to place on the market and worth good money. There was a period I earned so much, I could afford to sleep and eat in the most expensive hotel in the city."

"Don't you keep anything you steal?"

"I wouldn’t know what to do with it," he said. "All I want is enough money, to buy good food and have a roof over my head until the next day."

"And that’s all you’ve ever wanted?" Bill asked.

Keyhole laughed again, but this time it was a bitter laugh.

"I can't afford to ask for more," he replied. "I’m the last of my kind and my home planet has been colonized by other peoples, so I no longer have a home. I can't fight or hunt: the only things I can do well are steal and escape. I’m lucky if I come up with enough stuff, to make it through tomorrow." He raised a hand. "It’s the same for my partner. His race has been extinct for years and those few left have been sold into slavery. When we met, he was a prisoner in the house I wanted to rob. He was trying to escape from his master and I helped him." A small smile raised the corners of his mouth. "He was so grateful, that he decided to stick with me. And we’ve been partners since then."

"It was the same for Hectorgon!" Bill commented. "I saved him from a miserable, pathetic life and, since then, he’s so grateful he cannot express it with words."

"Do you really want me to put into words what I feel now?"

"He’s such a kidder." Bill moved to the others. "He’s Kryptos: he is the serious one of the company. While she’s Pyronica and she’s wonderful."

"And he's the chatterer," Pyronica said, pointing to Bill. Keyhole chuckled.

"So you also found each other by chance?" His gaze moved from one to the other. "That's why you’re so different. Usually, people prefer to deal with others of their kind: I’ve rarely crossed groups of three or more different species."

"Why?" Bill asked. "This way’s much funnier!"

"Well, it's difficult to agree when there are too many different minds," he explained. "And nobody travels so much and so far, to meet so many different species."

"In our case, the more different we are, the better it is!" Bill replied, waving a hand. "I could never have traveled with others only of my same kind. And traveling far is not a problem," he added, in a cheerful tone, "We’ve gone a long way from where I started."

"Have you been traveling for a long time?"

"At least two hundred years."

Keyhole laughed.

"Very funny."

"How about you, instead?" Bill asked. "How long have you been traveling?"

"Thirty years, more or less."

"Oooh, so you've definitely seen something interesting!" Bill leaned forward, curious.

"Like what?"

"Anything!" He exclaimed. "Rare colors, different creatures, uncommon laws, strange objects…"

"Why are you asking him?" Pyronica replied, with a smirk. "If those things existed, you’d already know, right?"

"You’re right!" Bill clapped a hand over his eye. "We’re very uncomfortable here. Let's continue this conversation somewhere else!"

"But... but that's not what I said..."

"So, Keyhole." Bill held out his hand, giving him his most dazzling look. "Do you want to chat a little more, out there?"

"Why not?" Keyhole grabbed his hand and stood up. "I was getting tired of this place. There isn’t even a chair."

"And the ones here are all taken," Bill continued for him. "It's time to go out."

He turned to the door and raised a hand, thumb and middle finger ready to snap.

"Finally," muttered Hectorgon, pressing his arms to the ground. Kryptos reached him to help, but the Hexagon pulled himself up and stood on his base. Pyronica also came closer and crossed her arms, waiting.

Keyhole turned away from them and stood between Bill and the door. Although hampered by the handcuffs, he started to run his fingers around the lock, examining it from all angles.

What is he doing?

Kryptos exchanged a glance with Hectorgon, who only gave him a half-perplexed smile. Pyronica tilted her head, intrigued by that behavior. Bill lowered his arm, his gaze fixed on Keyhole, his wide-open eye following the scene with greedy curiosity.

Keyhole was still examining the lock, feeling it with his fingers and looking around it in every way. He put a finger inside, as if he wanted to make sure of its width. He even drew his eye to the lock, to spy on the internal gears.

Satisfied, he pulled away from the door and raised his hands on the bizarre hole that opened on his forehead, a lock made of pitch black. He put his hand inside and, when he pulled it out, he held a bronze key between his fingers. Under their curious looks, he slipped the key into the lock and turned.

With a clack, the door opened.

Keyhole turned to look at them: on his face, covered with purple bruises, there was a smile so wide and satisfied, that could’ve matched Bill's own. He opened the cell door and, with a gallant bow, invited them out.

"After you."

Kryptos was amazed and Hectorgon and Pyronica kept staring, astonished.

Bill, however, let out a delighted scream.

"You can do this?!"

"I told you," Keyhole replied, with a grin. "No door can lock me up."

All five of them - Hectorgon propping himself up on his arms - went out, under the shocked looks of the other prisoners. Once Pyronica was finally out, Keyhole closed the door and gave a broad, grinning smile to the bipeds who had kicked him.

"Bye, losers."

Bill's eye was shining so much, to brighten his entire shape just by itself. He grabbed Keyhole's hand and looked him straight in the eyes while battling his eyelashes against his nose.

"Join us," he said, straight away.

Keyhole's satisfied smile took a puzzled turn. He blinked.

"Ehm... what?"

"Join our group," Bill invited him. "You won’t have to steal to survive anymore. You’ll travel further than you ever have and you’ll see treasures that no one has ever seen. You won’t have to worry about asking too much anymore, because you’ll be able to ask for everything and everything will be given to you." With a gesture of the hand, the handcuffs that held his wrists opened by themselves and fell to the ground.

Keyhole looked up, his mouth open.

"How did you do this?"

"This is nothing," Bill answered. He put his hand on the big, purple bruise on his arm and, under Keyhole's eyes, the bruise narrowed until it disappeared, leaving only intact turquoise skin.

Keyhole looked up at Bill again, his eyes wide with amazement, with a hint of fear at the bottom of his pupils.

"How...?"

"If you come with me, you’ll have much more," was the only answer.

Keyhole's gaze settled on each of them, returned to the cell from which they had escaped. He turned back, to look at the corridor behind him. When he focused again on Bill, there was a new resolution in his eyes.

"Fine," he accepted, "But only if my partner can come with us."

"Where is he now?"

Keyhole pointed to the corridor behind him.

"He was also captured, but they put him in a different cell," he explained. "I don't know which one, I only saw that they took him further inside into the prison. Help me get him out and I'll go with you."

Bill smiled.

"Consider it done." He gestured towards the corridor. "Guide us."

They went down the corridor, Pyronica carrying Hectorgon in her arms. From the other cells, the prisoners’ eyes followed them with perplexed expressions: some creatures clung to the bars, to get a closer look.

"Keyhole!"

The voice came from a cell to the right and Keyhole stopped immediately.

"I'm here! Wait, I’m letting you out!" He answered, a hand already on his forehead, ready to pull out the right key. Bill put a hand on his arm and stopped him.

"Let me return the favor," he said, in his most radiant tone. He raised one hand and bent his index towards him.

The entire cell wall rolled up on itself, the bars folded as if they were made of rubber. The astonished prisoners took a few seconds to understand what had just happened, shifting their gazes from Bill to the rolled-up door at their feet. Then they seized the opportunity and stepped over it, pouring like a river along the corridor.

Bill turned to look at them: he had such a pleased expression, that Kryptos could not help rolling his eye.

"Fine, you're good," he commented.

"Just good?!" Keyhole was gaping, in awe. "You’re amazing!"

"I know, I know, I'm unique," Bill gloated.

"Keyhole!" A creature approached them. He was slightly taller than Keyhole and made up of two rows of teeth, with short arms and legs. He was speechless. "What...? Who…?"

"So..." Bill put a hand on his side, turning to Keyhole. "Aren’t you going to introduce your partner to us?"

"Teeth," he introduced himself, still opening and closing his mouth. "Are you... are you a God?"

"Some people thought so," Bill confirmed.

"No wonder they did!" Teeth pointed to the door behind him. "You can do these things, just by moving a hand! I ate you, would I absorb your powers and do these things too?"

"Teeth!" Keyhole scolded him, but Bill laughed.

"I'm sorry, pal, but my powers can’t be given to others." He gave him a friendly pat on the top. "I like your friend!" He added cheerfully, turning to Keyhole, "He’s strange!"

Keyhole rolled his eyes, with a half smile on his lips.

"Well, you're a pretty strange guy too."

"Oh, thanks! You’re not bad either."

Keyhole gave him a perplexed expression.

"Is it a compliment for you?"

"Why, it’s not?"

"It’s all very nice," Hectorgon interrupted them. "But how about we get out of here?"

Bill raised his hand and snapped his fingers, bringing them all on a road, in front of a rectangular building. It was nothing more than a block of gray stone, surrounded by small, square houses. Screams, gunshots and the sound of a siren came from inside the building. A window opened and a creature escaped: it was one of the prisoners in Teeth's cell. So that building was supposed to be the prison.

"What...?" Keyhole was spinning around, bewildered. "Are we out? How?"

"Hey," Bill said, "Do you want to see a very blatant revenge?"

Before Keyhole could answer, a flickering blue flame appeared in Bill's hand. Kryptos recognized it: it was the flame destroyer of Dimensions. Bill turned his hand upside down and the flame reached out to touch the ground, ran down the street and climbed around the prison, spreading out in a bonfire while devouring stone and glass. It embraced the building and smashed the windows, before pouring itself inside.

Kryptos looked away, but the terrified screams reached him anyway. The siren fell silent, devoured by the fire, and the blue glare of the flames shone powerful on the edge of his field of vision. He looked back and saw the bonfire widen, embrace the surrounding houses, run through the bare gardens. The fire climbed the empty trees, devoured stone and steel, then stretched towards the sky and eat air itself.

Another snap of Bill’s fingers and they were all sitting on a surface full of craters, under a too-wide and too-black sky, dotted with distant stars. In front of them, a huge green and gray sphere, on which a blue spot was widening even more.

An irregular breath caught Kryptos's attention: Teeth was wide-mouthed, taking deep breaths. Keyhole looked around, his hands clenched, his eyes wide and trembling.

"Outer... outer space..." he repeated, "No air, no air! I’m suffocating!"

"It’s all right, guys!" Bill reassured them, giving a pat on Keyhole’s back and one on Teeth's gum. "Just breathe as always! No matter where we go, you'll never run out of air."

Keyhole looked at him, even more amazed than before.

"Who the heck are you?!"

"Your new best friend," Bill answered. He put an arm around his shoulders and poked his cheek, laughing. "Relax, enjoy the show. This is a privileged position, no one else can enjoy it so closely!"

"That..." Teeth raised a hand towards the sphere in front of them. "Is that Kirhlm?!"

"You know, Hectorgon, you were right," Bill replied. He released Keyhole and stepped forward. With a wave of the hand, the Hexagon rose from Pyronica's arms, finally able to float again. "That wasn’t a nice place at all. As soon as they saw us, they dragged us into prison! What kind of welcome was this?"

He raised his arm and a huge, blue flower made of fire blossomed from Kirhlm. A small wave of the hand was enough and the flames threw themselves at full speed through space, pointing to the nearest planet.

"There’s nothing in this Dimension that is worth saving," Bill declared, his tone suddenly serious.

Hectorgon sighed.

"Here you are, being melodramatic as always," he joked. "Was the planet not enough for you?"

Bill looked at him: his eye was bent into a broad smile.

"I already saved the only interesting things here," he replied, giving a smiling look to Keyhole and Teeth. "And they weren't even local!"

He turned to Kirhlm, who had lost gray and green, to turn into a blue ball of fire.

"There’s nothing else in this Dimension," he said. "It just takes up space in the Multiverse."

The flame from Kirhlm had reached the nearest planet and kept going toward the nearest star. The distances of light years were covered in fragments of seconds, as the fire devoured the very fabric of the Dimension. The distant galaxies were getting closer and the flames surrounded them, embracing the stars in rings of blue fire.

"It's... scary," Keyhole murmured. Kryptos looked at him and he read a familiar dismay in his black pupils, a deep amazement that left him stuck in the same spot, unable to look away. "And it's beautiful."

Bill turned to look at him, with his hands behind the shape. His eye was half-open, a blade shining with power that made him glow from within as if he himself were the fire.

"You haven't seen anything yet, my friend," he said. "There’s a lot more to see."

Before the flames reached them too, Bill snapped his fingers and they all jumped into another dimensional line.

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 19

"At this rate, you’ll finish all Dimensions, boss."

Bill brought them all on an asteroid, from which they could watch his flames spread across yet another Dimension, running to reach the ends of the universe. Calcoris4, the planet that had attracted Bill’s multidimensional gaze, was long gone into the incandescent sea that had become its galaxy.

Bill looked away from the concert of flutes and cellos and followed the flames that ran towards the nearest galaxy, trills of flute on a melody of black, interspersed with green, red and orange instruments.

All empty planets, all uninhabited worlds.

"There’s nothing here either," he muttered.

He found empty or barely inhabited universes more and more often. And those few civilizations he encountered rarely had anything interesting: boring worlds, similar to other thousands, useless worlds which occupied space. If there was nothing worth growing, then all the better to eliminate them and leave room for something new.

"Your standards are too high," Keyhole insisted. "Not all worlds are like Prosper10, you know."

"That was a beautiful Dimension," Hectorgon agreed.

Prosper10 hadn't been bad. Planets that revolved around each other and all together around their star. Colors that fell from the skies in the form of rain and that Prosperians collected in platinum vases. Their tone separation system was something new, their religion linked rain to roots and each tone was a potion of magical properties. The Prosperians had welcomed them like gods on earth, they had erected a temple as their home. They had let them bathe in their sacred pools, they had given them rain in glass. Bill had drunk the multicolored rain and Prosperians had bowed before him: God of Good and Evil, the one who possessed the knowledge of everything.

And he had given knowledge open-handedly, pouring it like divine rain into the minds of those adoring creatures. Wars died out, technology evolved. In less than a hundred years, Prosperians had colonized their star system and half of their galaxy.

But all the Prosperian found in their travels were empty worlds. All empty and all the same. After five centuries of constant worship, with the same rituals and the same religion, with the same conquered worlds, the same statues and the same speeches, boredom had prevailed.

The Prosperians would have managed without him for another ten millennia, before their universe collapsed on itself. Maybe Bill would come back later, just to attend the show.

"I liked that Dimension where there was grass on the clouds," Pyronica intervened. She was lying next to Bill, hands behind her head. Her flames were white breaths on the piano base of her pink figure: a pleasant background to the orchestra of the universe consumed by fire.

"I didn't destroy it," Bill reminded her.

"But you destroyed the other twenty before," Hectorgon replied. "You want to be surprised, fine, but it’s hard to surprise you, when you already know everything."

"That's why I don't anticipate things." Bill snorted. "But there are so many things that keep repeating themselves! At least, if I free the Multiverse from repetitions, new things can be born."

"Repetitions could be born too."

"You know what I think you need?" Keyhole snapped his fingers. "A challenge."

"What kind of challenge?"

"Like finding a boring world and making it strange," he replied. "It would be a nice way to test yourself and see what you can do."

To create something bizarre, starting from scratch? It was not a bad idea. From the ocean floor of his powers, he felt that

much more

he could do much more. He just had to go deeper.

"It's not a bad idea," he said, savoring those words. "I could try."

"I know a boring place!" Teeth jumped on. "We went there once, do you remember, Keyhole? It was that place with the green guys, all bumps."

"Urgh, that." Keyhole snorted. "Even the stuff to steal wasn’t interesting: white crystals and a pair of blue rings. We left the same day."

"Perfectly boring." Bill raised his arm, thumb and middle finger ready to snap. "What's the name?"

"Something like... Erm20?"

Erm20. A name that was like a neon, a sign that showed him the right path, in the network of streets that made up the Fifth Dimension. The path lit up for him, far away in space and within reach of his hand: it kept going for ten billion years in the future, through the Fourth Dimension, until it stopped at the death of Erm20’s universe. A still long line, unlike that of Calcoris4, which would have gone out in a few hours.

It was worth a try.

Bill snapped his fingers and the universe around him moved away. He and his friends jumped from the dimensional line of Calcoris4 that was dying out like its planet, to the still-long one of Erm20. If he managed to change that world into something worthy, then its line would still have been long, a kaleidoscope of colors extending into the space of the Fifth Dimension.

"You will bring your colors."

Otherwise, Erm20’s universe line would have reached its end that same day.

In the kaleidoscopic orchestra of the Fifth Dimension, Erm20’s line was one step away. Bill reached out to touch it, his skin already perceiving the roughness of gray, the green melody of the violin that repeated itself monotonously, a touch of white...

Something anchored him, a mysterious force similar to an invisible rope, wrapped around his shape and yanked him away, away from the dimensional line of Erm20, to drag him into another line.

Shock blossomed at the center of his shape, his eye moved to seek the origin of that mysterious force. Was there another creature in the Multiverse that, like him, was able to move through Dimensions without a portal?

Who?

How could do it, who had given it this ability...?

Axolotl?

The mysterious force pulled him into the new, unknown Dimension, with such violence to throw him to the ground. Behind him, he heard the thuds of his friends hitting the ground like him, a groan from Teeth, hurried footsteps, something metallic that clicked. And then voices overlapping, while speaking in Common Language.

"We found them!"

"Check it!"

"Unauthorized..."

"Rules of Interdimensional Travel..."

Flabby hands of flesh and bone lifted him, an optical reader was pointed at his eye and its white light dazzled him for an instant. He blinked and the grainy taste of black emerged from the blanket of slow breath: bipeds of paper and embers took shape, with arms that shone with his blue, a note of flute trilling on their chests, on the symbol that was his shape and its reverse. A symbol that-

I already saw it.

- he knew.

That’s his world.

"It’s them!"

"You’re all under arrest!"

Arrest.

Arrest?

Did they want to arrest HIM?

Never again.

Bill rose in midair: it was enough for him to want it and the fleshy hands that held him were pushed away. The bipeds stepped back and looked at him in amazement through their masks, their weapons raised.

"ARREST ME?" He thundered and his voice shook the foundations of the prison in which they had brought him. "GO AHEAD AND TRY, IF YOU CAN."

The bipeds ran towards him.

So stupid.

A wave of the hand and half of the ceiling collapsed, crushing the bipeds with metal, glass and rubble. The neon light tubes broke into sparks and twilight fell: the huge flood lights outside remained the only light left, violent white breaths mounted on drones of a grainy black.

Bill flew out of the prison and grew larger, enough for his shape to overlap that of the building. He raised his hand and the right wing of the building exploded, throwing stones and prisoners everywhere. Something caught fire and flames burst out on the walls that were still standing, generating a symphony of red and green cries.

His friends, protected by the remaining walls, turned to look at him with speechless mouths and minds filled with questions.

What’s he doing?

What’s happening?

Where are we?

Why?

"GIVE ME A COUPLE OF MINUTES," Bill answered their unspoken questions. He turned his back on them and focused on the buildings in front of the prison. "THERE’S SOMEONE I HAVE TO MEET."

The building before him had the same symbol printed on the facade, the same blue hourglass. Bill pointed a finger at it and the building exploded.

The warm wind of the explosion hit what remained of their room, causing a sheet of metal to fly away from the edge of the half-destroyed wall. Bill went away to bring destruction to the nearby buildings, his dazzling light shining like a star, brighter than all the artificial ones that surrounded him.

Pyronica was the first to reach the edge of the room where they were: wind stirred her hair, flames escape from her arms and legs.

"What do we do now?" Teeth asked. "Do we wait here?"

"No way! " she exclaimed. She turned around, showing off her predatory smile. "I want some fun too!"

And, without adding more, she jumped out of the building.

"Pyronica!" Hectorgon went in her pursuit and Teeth jumped too, laughing.

Kryptos ran to the edge of the room: Pyronica had already disappeared, while Hectorgon was a red light that moved in the rectangular space in front of the prison, searching for her. Teeth, on the other hand, ignored him and threw himself on the bipeds that approached, biting one and making all others scream and run.

Sirens began to howl and Kryptos turned back to the inside of the room, just in time to see Keyhole leaving from the door: he ran after him.

"Where are you going?" He screamed, trying to overwhelm the sirens’ cry.

Keyhole reached the nearest cell: a glance at the door was enough and he took out a key from the lock on his forehead. He opened the door and ran to the next cell.

Kryptos reached him and grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing?" He shouted again.

"Can't you see it?" He replied, yelling in turn. He threw open the second door and the criminals ran out. "I’m freeing as many people as possible! Bill will destroy everything!"

Keyhole ran to the third door, two keys in his hand.

"Do you need to see the lock to make more keys?" Kryptos asked, his voice hoarse from the effort to keep shouting. Keyhole shook his head, pulled out two more keys and threw them at him.

Kryptos ran to the next cell: the criminals were crushed against the door, one on top of the other, waving their hands through the bars. Their voices overlapped, yelling and praying for freedom. Kryptos put the key: as soon as the lock clicked, the door swung open, he lost his grip on the key and the criminals poured out like a tidal wave, throwing him to the ground.

He raised his hands in front of him and squeezed his eye shut, waiting for a multitude of feet to crush him, to crack his shape under their weight. Instead, he felt two hands grab him by the sides and lift him.

Cautiously, Kryptos opened his eye and lowered his arms: he had been pulled up by one of those prisoners, a biped much larger than him, with rotten green skin. Sharp teeth protruded from its open mouth and the eyes were two black spheres, with an eight-shaped pupil. The being still had the remains of a chain around its wrist and ankle and it was still holding Kryptos in front of it, protecting him from the sea of other escaping prisoners.

"Thank you," Kryptos said, out of breath.

"I couldn't crush you. You freed me." The prisoner had a hoarse, low voice.

"Uh... you’re welcome ...? "

The creature looked around. His eyes rolled.

"Kryptos!" Keyhole called, joining them.

The prisoner lowered his head. Keyhole stopped and looked from him to Kryptos with frightened eyes.

"Who are you?"

"8-Ball," the creature replied, "I’m protecting you."

"Uhm... " Keyhole rubbed his neck. "Fine, I guess?"

Before he could say more, 8-Ball passed an arm around Kryptos and grabbed Keyhole with the other one, then ran down the corridor, heading for the exit. A couple of bipeds saw them and lifted their weapons, yelling them to stop: Keyhole shrieked, Kryptos pressed his fingers on the arm around him. 8-Ball ignored both and broke through a window, to jump two floors down.

Kryptos gasped, Keyhole kept screaming. 8-Ball landed on his feet, the force of the impact made Kryptos lose the little air still in his throat.

"Put me down!" Keyhole shrieked, struggling in 8-Ball’s grip. "You’re batshit crazy!"

"I’m protecting."

"Don’t “I’m protecting” me! You almost killed all three of us!"

"Guys!" Hectorgon came towards them, flying at high speed. "Did you find Pyronica?"

"I thought you were looking for her!" Kryptos shouted, among the howling sirens.

"I lost her!"

"And Teeth?"

Hectorgon pointed to their right: two hundred meters ahead, a group of bipeds was fighting Teeth. One lifted his gun to shoot him, Teeth bit his legs and, with a snap, he tore them off. The biped fell to the ground screaming and tried to move away, trudging on his arms. Two other bipeds helped him, the others kept shooting at Teeth: their shots crashed against the blood-stained teeth and red gums, without injuring him.

"Normal weapons can't do anything to you anymore."

Kryptos looked up. Bill was still tearing down buildings, the chaos of the explosions joined the alarms and screams that echoed all around. Laser beams were fired at his base, but crashed against the surface and he didn't even seem to notice them.

8-Ball moved and Kryptos saw a laser beam pass a few inches from them. He turned and saw two guards running in their direction. He felt the muscles of 8-Ball's arm tense, he saw his legs bend, ready for action.

Before he could do anything, a group of prisoners stormed the guards, pushed them to the ground, and stole their weapons. Screaming and celebrating, they ran away, shooting all the guards they met.

"Well, it was convenient," Keyhole commented.

An explosion blinded them and a strong wind caused 8-Ball to retreat. With his arms raised, Kryptos saw the fire invade the wing of the prison that was still standing: white and pink flames poured out of the windows and a wall of fire replaced a wall on the ground floor. Pyronica emerged from the heart of the flames, her hair fluttering, the flames that covered her burning more than ever. A short, squat creature appeared from the flames beside her and held out his fist. She bumped her against his.

"Pyronica!" Hectorgon called her.

She turned to look at them and waved a hand, with a broad smile.

"Hello, guys!" She greeted them. She came towards them, followed by the squat creature. "Say hello to my new friend! He's called Paci-fire and he's so fun!"

"I slaughtered millions on countless moons," the creature said, as a presentation. His red eyes flashed, while the other two on his chest narrowed.

"Uhm... hi?" Kryptos greeted him. He lifted a hand towards the being that was still holding him and Keyhole. “He’s 8-Ball."

"Are they your friends?" The latter asked.

"Yes, it’s okay."

"Guys!" Teeth joined them, covered with scarlet blood. "Aren’t so cute, these bipeds? They think they can kill us!"

"Isn’t Bill tired yet?" Pyronica looked up at his gigantic shape. "He's taking a long time to destroy this place."

"Why is he doing it like this?" Hectorgon intervened. "What does he have in mind this time?"

"Maybe this place is special..." Kryptos ventured.

"Well, of course it is."

Kryptos blinked and turned his gaze to 8-Ball.

"What?"

"If you consider the most important prison in the Multiverse special, of course," 8-Ball continued. "This Dimension is the base of the Time Police."

"Time Police?" Hectorgon repeated.

"They stick their noses whenever there’s a temporal paradox, an unauthorized dimensional jump or someone is playing with time." 8-Ball moved his gaze from one to the other. "Have you never heard of them?"

"I've heard of them, but I've never met them," Keyhole admitted.

"Time Police..."

"Uh?" Keyhole looked up at him. "Do you know about them, Kryptos?"

“I've been looking for you everywhere! I was terrified! We searched the whole station and you weren't anywhere! I was afraid you got shattered! I had to call the Time Police to find you!"

"LELX YIPNON. YOU’VE BEEN GOING AROUND DIMENSIONS WITHOUT PERMISSION."

"Time Police..." His throat was dry, distant words repeated in his mind, a story that had been told to him in a distant Dimension, now dead. "Is their leader… a child?"

"Do you mean Time Baby?" 8-Ball asked.

“So you’re a child? Look, kid, I may be small, but I'm much older than you, so I think you should stop bothering me."

"AND YOU TWO-DIMENSIONAL CREATURES ARE AMONG THE MOST FRAGILE OF THE MULTIVERSE. THIS IS WHY YOU MUST BE PROTECTED IN YOUR DIMENSION AND NOT ROAM AROUND WITHOUT CONTROL."

“FOR THIS TIME, I’LL TURN A BLIND EYE TO ALL OF THIS. BUT HE HAS TO COME BACK TO HIS DIMENSION AND STAY IN."

His lips trembled. Kryptos turned his gaze to Bill's enormous silhouette, who kept destroying buildings and throwing the bipeds away, without resorting to his devouring flames, without really wanting to wipe out that place.

“GIVE ME A COUPLE OF MINUTES. THERE’S SOMEONE I HAVE TO MEET."

"Kryptos?" Keyhole called him. "Are you okay?"

Kryptos looked back at them.

“He doesn't want to destroy this Dimension,” he said. “He just wants to get his attention.”

"Whose atten…?"

"ENOUGH!"

A thundering voice boomed over their heads. The sirens went out and a strong wind blew violently into the space full of rubble: a couple of criminals flew away, others ran away, others were pushed to the ground by the impact force. Hectorgon grabbed his bowler hat with one hand, the tie shaking madly. Pyronica's hair stirred in the same way, her flames shrinking under the whipping wind. Kryptos protected his eye with one hand: between his fingers, he saw a gigantic figure approaching, twenty times larger than him, with a huge, round head and a blue hourglass imprinted on his forehead.

Although Kryptos had never seen that creature before, he immediately recognized him.

"His attention," he murmured.

"ENOUGH!"

That voice. Oh, that voice. Low as blue, devoid of the gentle melody of pink, with the crackling of black and that bitter taste of white that came straight from his memories of a distant Dimension, a white room without borders, a Sphere that looked away from him with silent resignation.

Bill Cipher turned and saw him: the colossal baby who had condemned him, the arrogant being who had deported him away from the Third Dimension and its beauties, to send him back into the gray world in which he was born. The cause of all injustices, insults and his imprisonment.

"HE HAS TO COME BACK TO HIS DIMENSION AND STAY IN."

Time Baby had not changed at all: same chubby cheeks, same stupid round head, same stupid hourglass on his forehead. The only difference was in his eyes, no longer black, but with a burning red pupil.

Angry.

"SURRENDER IMMEDIATELY," Time Baby thundered, "AND YOU WON’T BE DISINTEGRATED ON THE SPOT."

Bill exploded into a hysterical laugh, his yellow flashing madly, blue flames swaying and laughing with him. Oh, he was angry! How CUTE to think he was scaring him! How CUTE to think those threats were worth anything! How CUTE to protect that small Dimension! As if he could protect it! As if he could do something! As if-

You’re much stronger.

-he could defeat him!

"YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO GO AROUND DIMENSIONS."

Oh really?

He pointed a finger at him and fired a laser beam at the stupid baby's face. Time Baby moved and the beam struck a building behind him that exploded, making glass and stone fly everywhere.

THIS is how you protect it?

He’s much weaker than you.

"Time Baby!" Bill greeted him, the voice rising in a high-pitched screech. "We meet again, at last!"

The toddler squinted, trying to get that mind as big as stupid to work.

"HAVE WE MET BEFORE?"

He has no idea.

Bill laughed again, hysterical.

"OF COURSE!" he screamed. "How can I expect you to recognize me? You’re just a stupid brat, who doesn't even have object permanence! Of course you can’t remember past things! And I’m COMPLETELY DIFFERENT compared to two millennia ago!" He pointed a finger at him and narrowed his eye, aiming at his head. "I think you need ANOTHER INCENTIVE to refresh your memory!"

He dematerialized and reappeared behind him, the beam already charged. Time Baby spun around and moved away just in time: the beam slightly brushed his nose and reached another building, which blew off with a crash of glass, so loud it made him turn.

When Time Baby looked back at him, his eyes widened even more, by looking at the ray that Bill had already prepared, one meter from the hourglass on his forehead.

"SO?" He thundered with a voice full of anger, rising above screams and flames. "DO YOU REMEMBER ME NOW?"

Time Baby avoided him again. A double laser beam started from his eyes, which Bill dodged by moving to the side. He answered with another beam, which Time Baby dodged. The baby tried to hit him again, with a continuous beam of blue light: Bill floated higher, zipped right and left, avoiding the beam effortlessly, letting it destroy everything behind him. He rose higher, spun to avoid another ray and, as he turned, he stretched out his arm: a golden ray came towards Time Baby, who avoided it and the ray hit a building, which turned into ash.

"STOP IT!"

Bill laughed. That pathetic baby was fast enough to offer him a fun challenge! At least he wasn't proving himself to be as disappointing as Rìem!

"WHAT’S THE MATTER, TIME BABY?" He screamed. "Is this small, FRAGILE two-dimensional creature too challenging for you?" He shot him another beam. "Am I not so DELICATE anymore?"

Time Baby dodged it and, in his frowning eyes, a flash of understanding. The pupils turned black again, the eyes widened.

"LELX YIPNON?!"

"Finally!" Bill exclaimed. “Even if that’s not my name anymore!" Blue flames bloomed in his hands. “Now my name is Bill Cipher."

Time Baby's eyes widened even more at the sight of the fire.

"IT WAS YOU?!"

"Who set my Dimension on fire? Obviously!" He exclaimed. “Or do you mean to set all the others on fire?"

Time Baby was shocked.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" He thundered in a bewildered tone. “DIMENSIONS MUST BE PRESERVED!"

Bill laughed.

"Preserve! Control! Balance!" He laughed. "As if all of that makes some sense! Watching Dimensions rise and grow, until all that’s interesting dies, and then let them drag on for millennia, under the influence of some STUPID physical law! It's like leaving corpses adrift in a river, waiting for them to decompose by themselves!"

He moved an arm in front of him, throwing flames toward Time Baby: he backed away, but the flames died out before reaching him.

"They take up space," Bill continued. "I’m making more, to make new worlds grow."

"YOU’RE NOT THE ONE WHO DECIDES HOW DIMENSIONS SHOULD END!" Time Baby thundered. "AND NOT LIKE THIS, DESTROYING ONE DIMENSION AFTER ANOTHER! DO YOU KNOW WHAT SUCH UNCONTROLLED DESTRUCTION CAN LEAD TO? SPACE-TIME COULD TEAR APART!"

"So what?"

"EXISTENCE WOULD HAVE NO MEANING ANYMORE!"

Bill laughed again.

"Great news: it doesn't have any even now!" He replied. “And actually, if it had even less meaning, it would be better!"

Time Baby backed away again. He looked him from top to toe.

"YOU’RE INSANE."

"Bing bing bing, great catch, genius!" Bill disappeared and materialized again, a blow from Time Baby's face, a finger pointed at him. His eye turned red. "AND GUESS WHOSE FAULT IS IT."

Time Baby lowered to the ground and the beam just brushed him, leaving a subtle burn on the head. His little eyes narrowed again, sternly.

As if THAT could scare him!

"BILL CIPHER," he declared in a thunderous voice “SURRENDER NOW OR..."

"OR WHAT?" Bill thundered with the same, powerful voice. He raised a hand and a blade of wind struck Time Baby, causing him to end up against one of the few standing buildings. Glass shattered, metal cracked, Time Baby close his eyes at the impact and, when he opened them again, Bill was in front of him, as big as his entire head.

"ARE YOU SENDING ME BACK INTO THE SECOND DIMENSION?" He screamed. "WILL YOU CLOSE ME IN PRISON? YOU WON’T IMPOSE YOUR JUDGMENT ON ME ANYMORE!"

Time Baby brought a hand to the building behind him and reduced it to rubble, to fly backward. Did he want to escape? Did he think he could ESCAPE him?

"I rule!" Bill shouted, his voice high and hysterical again. "I can move between Dimensions! I am the Lord of the Multiverse! All Dimensions are MINE!"

Time Baby's eyes widened.

"YOU WERE THE ONE WHO JUMPED BETWEEN DIMENSIONS?!"

"OF COURSE IT WAS ME!" He yelled. "It’s always ME! I can do all this! I can go anywhere! I can destroy everything! I could even turn your stupid Dimension to ashes if I wanted! I can do EVERYTHING."

"YOU’RE PUTTING YOURSELF IN DANGER!" Time Baby replied. "BY JUMPING IN SUCH AN UNCONTROLLED WAY, YOU COULD CREATE INTERDIMENSIONAL FRACTURES! YOU COULD GET STUCK BETWEEN TWO DIMENSIONS! YOU COULD GET INVOLVED IN YOUR OWN DESTRUCTION!"

Bill approached again, until he towered over him.

"Do you really think that all the STUPID physical dimensional laws apply to me?" His voice reverberated all around. "I am the God of the Multiverse and the laws BOW to me. My will IS the law! And no one can oppose it: neither other laws nor YOU."

"YOU CAN'T DO EVERYTHING YOU WANT!"

"Do you think so?" Bill replied "Do you REALLY think so? Are you challenging me? Try it! Try to stop me! Do it and I won't be as kind as I’ve been until now!"

He approached and his eye turned red again, scarlet light rained on Time Baby's face.

"Don't you find it IRONIC?" He said. "I am even more magnanimous than YOU have been with me. When you established my sentence, you enforced it without giving me even a second chance!"

He laughed and the earth vibrated with him, shaken by his own laughter, stronger and stronger, until cracks opened in the ground and yellow light filtered through. Time Baby made the mistake of lowering his gaze: a gesture from Bill and the ground beneath exploded, projecting boulders of rock and rubble of buildings, shards of glass and metal plates, which all aimed at the baby.

Time Baby stretched out his arms and created a protective shield around him. He raised his angry eyes to Bill.

"I WON’T LET YOU DESTROY EVERYTHING, CIPHER!"

Oh, his pathetic attempt to scare him was so much FUN! But what could a bug do, compared to a God?

Nothing.

You’re much stronger.

You can do even more.

Bill replied with another thundering laugh, which echoed across the entire Dimension and blew the earth all around Time Baby. The still-standing buildings folded and collapsed, hitting that miserable being with metal, glass and stone.

He moved away from that pitiful sight, from that BUG that was trying to defend himself. He can barely defend himself from inanimate objects, how could he defend himself from ME?

The ocean of powers inside him laughed, bubbles rose from the still unexplored bottom, still far away, a taste of tea and honey.

Much more.

He snapped his fingers and disappeared, taking his friends away with him into a new dimensional line and leaving Time Baby alone, in the middle of a destroyed city, invaded by criminals.

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 20

From that moment, all Dimensions were covered in posters.

Bill's image was everywhere, his eye filled the streets. Public danger, Destroyer of Dimensions, unbridled fury, powers beyond the norm, able to jump between Dimensions at will, please flee at his sight and immediately contact the Time Police.

"As if these could stop you!" 8-Ball said, waving one of the posters. "You're a thousand times stronger than Time Police and Time Baby put together!"

"You're right, my friend," Bill laughed. He put an arm around him. "I love this guy!"

"I thought you loved me!" Teeth replied.

"Yes, like a younger brother."

"What about me?" Pyronica intervened.

"Like the best woman of the Multiverse."

"And him?" Pyronica asked again, wrapping her arms around Paci-fire's head.

"Uhm..." Bill tapped his shape under the eye. "Like an adorable little dog."

"I slaughtered millions on countless moons."

"A guard dog," Bill corrected himself.

"By the way, I would like to know," Hectorgon asked, "That's all he can ever say?"

"He gave a whole speech yesterday," Pyronica replied. "You missed it ‘cause you wanted to sleep earlier."

"So I guess I'll hear the next one in three years."

"Paci-fire isn't much of a talker," Pyronica leaned with one arm on his head. "He's better at destroying and slaughtering."

"And he holds margarita very well," Bill added. "Hat's off to you, my friend."

Paci-fire replied with a shrug.

Hectorgon sighed and stretched, extending his arms above him.

"So that's what we are now?" He asked ironically. "A group of wanted criminals?"

"You mean the most important wanted criminals of the Multiverse," Bill replied, snatching the poster from 8-Ball's hands. "And do you know what that means?"

"That our life will be a living nightmare from now on?"

"Wrong." Bill's eye bent into a wide, satisfied smile. "Now there'll be Dimensions in which it will be enough to say my name, to be worshipped like gods!"

"I’m 100% sure it doesn’t work like that."

"Buzzkill!" Pyronica chuckled.

"Let's make a bet," Bill proposed. "Let's go to another Dimension. If the inhabitants worship me as soon as they see me, you will compliment me for a week. And I mean every single sentence will be a compliment.”

"But if they'll try to fight you, then you will turn every single sentence into a compliment for me." Hectorgon held out his hand. "I'm in."

Bill smiled and snapped his fingers.

They found themselves in the center of a pentagonal square full of stalls, surrounded by purple and green creatures, who stared at them with their four wide, perplexed eyes.

"Hey, guess what?" Bill turned to them, spreading his arms like a presenter on stage. "I'm Bill Cipher!"

A moment of perplexity passed through the creatures, who blinked and exchanged gazes. Then, a couple of them screamed and screams spread throughout the square: a good part tried to escape, another hid behind the stalls. A third part threw themself at his feet.

"Spare our Dimension, please!" They begged him, hands clasped. "We'll give you everything you want, but please spare us!"

Bill turned to Hectorgon. His eye was bent into the most satisfied grin ever, which widened even more at the sight of the Hexagon's frown.

"You've just learned an important lesson, pal," Bill said, while bringing a hand to his eye. "Never challenge a merchant."

"It's been centuries since you called yourself a merchant."

Bill turned around and Kryptos entered the roof garden, which had been set up especially for them. Large five-petaled yellow flowers blossomed around the edge, opening to the moonlight. Bill was floating between them, his hands behind the shape, so similar to the flowers and so different in his geometric precision.

"I can be anything I want," he replied, looking back in front of him. "Merchant, wanted criminal, god, even all together. Nothing can stop me."

Kryptos came closer. The city lights emerged from beyond the flowers and extended beneath them. The new roads under construction were almost ready and, under the moonlight, they shone a faint yellow.

"Do you ever miss it?"

Bill sighed. Kryptos turned to look at him and his expression was serious, for once.

"No." His tone overflowed with cold melancholy. "The Second Dimension isn't a place where it’s possible to thrive and evolve. It's a flat world, with flat minds and flat dreams"

"Maybe not all the Second Dimensions are..." Kryptos clapped a hand over his eye. "How stupid. If there was a different one, you would've already seen it, right?"

"Yes."

Kryptos looked at the yellow flowers, stared at the center of their corollas.

"Ha..." he licked his lips. "Have you ever thought of improving one?"

"One of my versions tried to do it."

"One of your versions?"

"Five-dimensional vision," Bill replied. "I can see every possible decision and follow it up to its consequences. And, for each choice, I see that there's a different version of me. Some died, collapsing in the realization of the single choice. Others survive."

"And one of them...?"

Bill shifted his gaze to the black horizon.

"Spheres like Rìem always had the same goal, when they visited the Second Dimension," he explained. "To find a Shape who could understand the concept of three-dimensionality and explain it to others. One of my versions tried to become the Apostle."

Bill blinked. He loosened his hands from behind his back and looked down at his fingers.

"When he tried to come back into a two-dimensional world, he found out his shape could no longer be contained in the two dimensions. Its structure was no longer suitable. Only sections managed to pass through. Sections of arms, legs, eyelashes. And his shape was too bright, too tangible: it overflowed from the Second Dimension."

He joined the tips of his fingers.

"The inhabitants were afraid of him," he continued. "They attacked him, they screamed. They didn't even let him speak."

Bill put his arms behind his back.

"So he came out of that Dimension and burned it." His eye curved into a bitter smile. "Again."

A cold silence spread between them. Kryptos looked away, discomfort made his shape tingle. It was “ not-Bill” that heavy, serious atmosphere: it made the evening less bright, the air less fragrant. Even the flowers seemed more opaque.

Bill was not like that, he was the exact opposite. He made everything brighter and sparkling, with his silver tongue and unstoppable energy. Even in prison, there had never been a heavy atmosphere.

Kryptos looked through the garden: his gaze laid on the grass, trees, hesitated on the flowers, then passed on to the city and its streets.

"That material you proposed," he began, breaking the silence between them while pointing to the streets. "I've never heard of it. Yet this Dimension is very similar to others we've already seen."

"That's salcreus," Bill explained. There was a note of liveliness in his tone, rather than the serious coldness of their previous conversation. "Its chemical structure is much more compact than the simple stone they used before. Once they'll warm it up and apply it, it will be even stronger: it won’t be damaged by rain, hail or hurricanes. The streets will stay intact for centuries." A spark of fun flickered in his eye. "In addition to that, thanks to the crystalline dye, they will shine with golden light even on the darkest nights."

Kryptos smiled too, turning to look at him. Bill’s constant manifestations of power and omniscience made him forget that the Triangle also had a brilliant mind. It was pleasant to see a side of Bill that was more him, less godly. It made Bill look younger, it wiped away the past millennia.

How much time has passed…

He remembered with a hint of nostalgia the distant Dimension of Hirleon, the first in which they had been welcomed and worshipped as gods. Just a fragment of Bill's enormous knowledge was enough to make the whole civilization flourish. Monuments in his honor had been erected everywhere, his cult had united all the Hirleians. There had been no more wars, hunger, or injustices. Wisdom and abundance were everywhere as the civilization thrived.

And Bill was still young, a Triangle who had begun to plunge into the sea of his potential.

"Hey," Kryptos asked, "How far have you come with exploring your powers?"

"Oh, much deeper than before!" Bill replied, clearly satisfied. "Lately I've been exploring what are the limits within which I can do something in other creatures' dreams."

"What?!" Kryptos stammered. "You can visit other creatures' dreams?!"

"Yeah." His eye was shining, excited.

"So that's what you do when you sleep?"

"I don't sleep."

"You mean you don't sleep when you do this...?"

"No," Bill repeated. "I haven't slept in centuries. Ever since I burned the Second Dimension."

"But..." Kryptos scratched his top. "But every time... you lie down and your eye is closed... I thought you were sleeping."

"Usually I look into alternative universes and search for bridges that lead to other creatures' dreams."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"It’s not important." He laughed. "And it's better this way: at least there's always someone awake, who can warn you if there's any problem."

"Don't you feel tired?"

Bill raised his arms.

"I am made of pure energy," he replied. "Energy doesn't need to rest."

Silence fell between them again, but this time it was much more pleasant. A wolf howled far away, invisible to the eye.

"By the way," Kryptos spoke again. "I wanted to thank you for welcoming 8-Ball into our team. And Paci-fire. Even though I think you accepted him, just to make Pyronica happy."

Bill chuckled.

"She was so fond of him, I couldn't say no," he replied. "In any case, I would've tended towards them, sooner or later: the Time Police just sped up the process."

Kryptos raised an eyebrow, curious.

"What do you mean?"

Bill looked at him.

"Haven't you felt the same?" He asked. "Have you ever felt like tending towards?"

"Tending towards?"

"Pyronica," Bill explained. "Keyhole. In both cases, when I jumped through the Sixth Dimension, I felt like a... sensation." He touched the center of his shape. "Like a hook that pulls you in a direction and you know you have to reach it, that when you’ll get to the right place, you'll find something special, that you have to find that something. But the Multiverse is big and you don't always reach the right place at the first shot. With Pyronica it was easy because she was the last one alive, so I was pulled just in one specific direction." He smiled. "On the other hand, Keyhole's pull was strange, because it wasn't just him who pulled me: it was Teeth too. So when I thought I had reached the correct dimensional line, the second pull from Teeth made me adjust my direction and I immediately jumped again, into the right dimensional line."

"That double jump," Kryptos murmured. He felt again that distant taste of nausea in his mouth, that awful sensation of being turned upside down. He remembered looking at Bill and seeing a distant glance, that was looking through Dimensions.

"Here."

"I had to reach them before I lost my moment in time," Bill said.

"What moment?"

Bill sighed.

"I can jump through the Sixth Dimension." He replied, a tiny hint of irritation in his voice. "But I can't freely move along the Fourth."

"Uh..."

"Time, Kryptos," He explained. "I can jump from one line to another, but always forward in time. I can't go back, nor go forward at will." He huffed. "It's such a bore! Did you see how much time had to pass, before I tended towards 8-Ball and Paci-fire? If I could've moved at will through time, I would've reached them immediately!"

"Maybe it's better if you find them little by little," Kryptos replied with a smirk. "You already have too many people who keep complimenting you out of turn, you don't need more of them."

"They don't compliment me out of turn," Bill replied. He put his hands on the sides, his pupil shining with glee. "They just tell the truth."

"Of course." Kryptos hid a laugh behind his hand. "You really are the most childish and megalomaniacal creature I've ever known."

"But also the smartest and the best," Bill added, teasing him. "Admit it."

"Okay, okay, you also have some merits," Kryptos joked, rolling his eye.

"Wow, what an effort." Bill stuck out his tongue. "You're my attorney, aren't you supposed to always defend me?"

"I'm a serious attorney," Kryptos replied, with a smile. "If my client is childish, I’ll admit it."

Bill threw his arm around Kryptos' shape and they laughed together, like kids. It was so easy to laugh at past things, dead and buried, under the light of an unknown moon, in a Dimension so distant in time.

It was way simpler.

Tiredness made Kryptos unable to keep his eye open and more than once a hand raised to hide a yawn.

"Go get some rest," Bill said, with a pat on his back. "See you tomorrow."

Kryptos accepted without protest and left the roof garden, rubbing his eye. He smiled at him when he reached the doorway, before disappearing into the shadows of the building.

Once he was left alone, Bill looked back at the sleeping city. Multiple eyes opened, in the parts of the city where his image has been drawn. He could see the inside of a house

Flagius Spar, gunsmith

and the figures asleep under the covers, hills of grainy black lightened by a thin, sour white. He could see the empty road, the vehicles off. A wolf was sniffing something on the side: a sudden flash of light and the wolf ran away. He saw the ceiling of a room

Ramedh, the potion master who played with alchemy

illuminated by red and green fumes, sweet spices, wavy silk.

Another blink and Bill saw the inside of his building, from one of the frescoes on the ceiling. Lying among the pillows, his friends slept. Keyhole was on his side, mumbling something in his sleep, Pyronica was sprawled across the bed and her flames emitted a soft light that barely brightened the darkness. Paci-fire slowly sucked his soother, 8-Ball slept standing up, Teeth was biting a pillow, Hectorgon slept with his mouth open. Kryptos entered the room and he just fell front down on the pillows, with a soft ploof.

Seven companions. And all so different from each other! Different stories, different skills, different oddities. All of them unique, all of them special, all of them worthy of being saved from a boring life and an unworthy world.

It had to happen.

It had to be them.

Bill silenced the voices of omniscience. Sometimes it was nice to know things beforehand, sometimes it was funnier to ignore them. If he had known from the beginning that, within two millennia, he would have met 8-Ball and Paci-fire, how boring would it have been to wait all that time, without being able to reach them? Instead not only had he been amazed by a sudden attack from the Time Police, but he had also had the opportunity to take revenge on Time Baby! And, in the meantime, he had seen so many places and spent a lot of time hanging out with his friends!

He smiled. I finally found my people.

Who knows if there would be others. He shuddered at the mere thought. Other beings, even more special and different. Maybe even one who dared to oppose him. Oh, that would have been so much fun! His new friend tries to attack him with all their strength, takes the risk and does everything in their power... but then they understand how fantastic Bill is and accept to join the group. It would have been so perfect!

But there was time for that. One day that moment would come and he did not want to know when. He certainly did not want to spoil himself the fun!

He had other things to do, now.

The night was at its darkest point and everyone was asleep, so the dream world had to be full of dreamers: a wide range of minds to choose from.

Bill lowered himself until he touched the ground. He sat cross-legged among the flowers, closed his eye and took a deep breath.

Like other times, a network of dreamlike roads opened before him, similar in appearance to the web of five-dimensional ways that formed the Sixth Dimension. But, while those paths led to different Dimensions, the net before his mental eye was made up of bridges, which led to different islands. And each island was a separate mental world.

A bridge attracted his eye: it emanated a sparkling smell of mint, green mixed with blue, spicy, strong, and sweet. An interesting combination.

Bill jumped on that bridge and the jump was smooth, like all other times. His body was weightless, he did not feel the solidity of his limbs or the tangibility of the awake world. Everything was changeable, soft and flowing, including him. Yet looking at himself, his body looked exactly the same.

Your power.

You can do more.

It took him two jumps to reach the dream island from the bridge. From the outside, it looked like a dull mass of colors, like any other island. But as soon as Bill slipped inside, the opaque space took contours and sharpness: green and soft grass, blue trees that swayed in the fragrant breeze, small flowers that were white sighs. Bill floated between the tree trunks, moving through the branches full of leaves: they rustled as he passed, as if he were nothing but a breath of wind.

Trees grew thinner, more light filtered through their branches. There was a small slope, a little further on: a slight depression of the ground, which culminated in a strip of gentle blue. Stretched out on the ground near the water, there was a creature. Purple and green, like all Gyrlans, with four closed eyes and arms covered in rows and rows of colored stones.

Kermen, a worker at the road’s construction site no. 15.

Bill sat on one of the tallest branches and watched Kermen sleep. Uh, so this was his kind of dream? To sit in a meadow under the sun? Booooring. But Kermen was a boring guy. And ignorant, dumb and absent-minded. Whatever he would find in a dream, he would end up forgetting about it the next day. In short, a perfect mind to use for training.

Bill raised one hand and rubbed his fingers together. The river's color shifted from a gentle blue to an intense silver, which trilled loudly and was more sour than any white. The river's brightness made Kermen squint and he reopened his four eyes, puzzled by that sudden light. He sat up and raised an arm, trying to understand what was going on.

Bill stopped rubbing his fingers and the water's brightness faded a bit. Kermen lowered his arm and Bill raised a finger.

A pure white horse emerged from the river, with a shimmering mane, harnessed with the same strings of pearls around Kermen's arms. He moved towards him, looking at him with liquid blue eyes and pouring silver onto the grass.

Kermen looked at the horse in turn, his mouth open. Crawling over, he reached out a hand to touch it.

Bill drew a semicircle with his index finger: the beast's clear, silvery skin filled with cracks as if it were a broken vase. The cracks began to spread on the horse, around the powerful neck, on the muzzle, along the nimble legs, then came off and fell to the ground, revealing what was under the silver armor: a black skeletal horse, with bones covered in smoke and a beating flame in the belly's core, that was lightening the ribs with its scarlet light.

Kermen screamed and backed away quickly, kicking the ground in an attempt to get back on his feet. The horse caught up with him, his neck lengthened as if it were jelly and the creature sank its teeth into Kermen’s shoulder, with fangs that pierced his skin.

Kermen's scream of pain was so strong that the walls of the dream vibrated. For a split second, the dream space around them disappeared, revealing a space similar to a common bedroom - the private space of Kermen's mind.

But Kermen did not wake up and the image of the dream stabilized again, cladding the private space of his mind with the construction of the dream island. Bill narrowed his eye and rubbed his fingers together again. Interesting. Kermen had been one step away from waking up but had endured it. Last time Bill had interfered in a dream, his host dreamer had woken up immediately and Bill had been thrown out from the dream island. So resistance to nightmares was not the same for everyone but depended on the individual...

In the blink of an eye, he saw Kermen escape the horse and run, straight in his direction, aiming for the trees to take shelter. Panting and stumbling, Kermen hit a root, fell to the ground and rolled onto his back, his arms raised in an instinctive attempt to defend himself from another attack.

But then he lowered his arms and looked in Bill’s direction.

"Who are you?"

Bill leaned out of his branch, one hand on the trunk, intrigued. This was new: no one had ever realized his presence in a dream. Nobody had ever seen him. At first, he had tried to speak to the dreamers, but they all passed through him as if he were made of thin air.

But that guy had noticed him.

Kermen lowered his arms. His four eyes narrowed in a quadruple puzzled expression.

"Are you... Cipher? The Maker?"

"That’s me!" Bill exclaimed. He rose from the branch he was sitting on and floated down towards him, to reach his face. "I'm very surprised, kid! You know, I didn't expect any..."

"The horse!" Kermen interrupted him, pointing a finger behind him, his eyes wide with fear.

Bill snapped his fingers and the horse dissolved.

"I said," he continued, "I didn't expect anyone to be able..."

"You... saved me," Kermen interrupted him again. He looked at his hands, sat up and looked at Bill again. "But why you?"

"Well, what did you expect, the tooth fairy?" Bill put his hands on his sides. "You should be grateful that I spend my precious time with you! Where’s my " thank you "?"

"The horse must represent something that looks good but is not," said Kermen, speaking to himself. He rubbed his chin, alternating his gaze between Bill and the slope behind him. "And then the Maker saves me... while the fangs must represent pain or disease." Kermen touched the wound on his shoulder. "While the shoulder... maybe an impending disease?"

Bill rolled his eye, pouting. Urgh, great. The first guy who noticed his presence in a dream and he thought Bill was just a figment of his imagination. He thought that it was all just a stupid, allegorical dream.

I had too much hope: this guy's an idiot.

"And the fact that I was saved by the Destroyer means..."

"That I'm not that bad," Bill continued, with a sarcastic tone. "And two minutes ago you called me "the Maker", so you're not even true to yourself. I would work on that too, as well as on your laziness."

Kermen snapped his fingers, his face lit up.

"Laziness!" He repeated. "That's what the horse represents! At first, it looks positive, but in the long run, its consequences are way more serious!" He looked up at Bill. "And the arrival of the Destroyer changed things because now I have a job! Now I'm committing myself! Thanks to the street project, the Maker gave me a job, saving me from my laziness!"

"You used both names again..."

"Thank you!" Kermen threw himself on the ground in front of him, touching the grass with his forehead. "Thank you, o mighty All-Seeing Eye, to watch over and protect me!"

Bill straightened up, struck by that new name. He was used to being the God, the Destroyer, the Maker, the Incarnate Star... but being praised for his omniscience and for his - very aesthetic - eye was new. And he liked it, a lot.

"You're welcome, Kermen," Bill said, sitting down in midair and crossing his legs. "I forgive you for your lack of consistency. But only if you use this title more often: I like it a lot and I want it on a statue."

“You mean… "All-Seeing Eye"?"

“We perfectly understand each other, great!" Bill exclaimed. He gave him a friendly pat on his forehead. "Remember: reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, this isn't an allegorical dream and I want that statue." He waved his fingers. "It's time to wake up, Kermen! Get to work! I'm watching you."

And, with a blink of an eye, he left the dream.

The morning after, in the center of the main square of the city, some workers started the construction of a statue dedicated to the Maker. One of them worked all day around the base, without taking a single break until he had engraved the words "All-Seeing Eye" in long, curved letters.

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 21

Eventually, even that Dimension bored him and Bill moved again.

"After all this time, I was getting bored too," Pyronica admitted. "I needed some more of this."

They stood on the head of a giant turtle, as big as a galaxy, floating in the black space of a colossal universe. From that elevated position, they could see the huge carapace extending beneath them: an immense valley, with rivers, mountains and hills, tiny houses scattered on the orange surface, two white and blue stars enveloped in yellow clouds, which threw their bicolor light on the ground. The entire valley was protected by a dome, which preserved that small oasis from the dense dimensional liquid in which the colossal, galactic turtle swam.

"You know, there's another turtle out there," Bill was explaining, pointing to the boundless black universe ahead of them. "But this one doesn't know. When they'll meet, billions of centuries from now, they'll ignore each other."

"They could swim together," Keyhole replied. "It would be better for them."

"They're huge but stupid." Bill patted the colossal head. "They don't think there's anything else besides this Dimension. They don't even know that this is a Dimension: they think of it more like their giant aquarium."

"At least they're cute," Teeth said. "Hey, if I put a finger in front of their mouth, will they bite it?"

"They're more likely to eat you whole," Paci-fire said.

An astonished silence descended between them and everyone turned to Paci-fire.

"So you can say other things, besides how many people you slaughtered!" exclaimed Hectorgon, raising both arms towards him.

Paci-fire shrugged.

"Sure."

"And why did you repeat the same thing all this time?"

Paci-fire looked away, towards the black horizon.

"To warn you," he replied, in his cavernous voice. "To make you understand how dangerous I am. 8-Ball, Pyronica and Teeth killed a thousand people in total. You, Kryptos and Keyhole not even one. I slaughtered billions in one day."

He looked back at them.

"You're harmless, compared to me," he continued. "I want you to understand what I can do. So, if you were afraid of me, you could run away and get safe."

Hectorgon stood with his mouth hanging open, his arms fell to his sides. Kryptos blinked in amazement. Keyhole kept opening and closing his mouth as if he had lost his words.

"I..." Hectorgon murmured, "That's... we... wow."

Pyronica, on the other hand, threw her arms around Paci-fire and rubbed her cheek against his head, as if he were a cute little dog.

"You're such a sensitive soul!" she exclaimed.

"You worried too much, pal," Bill replied, a clear hint of fun in his voice. "You're not that dangerous!"

Paci-fire turned to him.

"Not compared to you."

Bill chuckled, satisfied.

"I'm a god," he replied, with a wink. "It doesn't count."

"A destroyer," Kryptos corrected him. He approached and sat next to him. Bill blinked, with the most innocent expression in the Multiverse.

"I don't destroy everything!" He replied.

"There are many more Dimensions that you burn, than the ones you keep."

"If you want to build a palace, you have to knock down a couple of old houses," Bill said. "If you want to clean up a piece of land, you have to pull some weeds. It's common knowledge! I'm just getting rid of useless things."

"Oh yes?" Kryptos turned to him. "And for what?"

Bill laughed.

"Isn't it obvious?" He answered, spreading his arms. "To create a better Multiverse! A funnier one! One in which there's only weirdness! In which each Dimension is new and strange and ready to be explored!"

"But you know that physical laws..."

"Physical laws are just laws and they can be changed or expire," Bill interrupted him. "Leave it to me: I know what I'm doing! Have I ever had a bad idea?"

"Oh no, never," Kryptos replied ironically, rolling his eye with a smirk. "You always have the best ideas."

Bill leaned over to Pyronica.

"I have to find a new attorney," he joked, pretending to whisper in secret.

"Kryptos' actually right," Hectorgon intervened, with a broad smile.

"And a new Hexagon," Bill added, still speaking to Pyronica. "I could always shape Keyhole's head."

"To make me your attorney or your new Hexagon?" Keyhole asked, chuckling.

"My new Hexagon," Bill replied. “I'll take Paci-fire as an attorney: few words, but straight to the point."

"If he becomes your attorney, can I be the new Paci-fire Sensitive Soul?" 8-Ball asked, raising a hand.

"Call me that again and I'll tear your eyes out," Paci-fire threatened him.

"Don't worry, pal, we love you for your soft side too," Bill reassured him.

"I knew I made the right choice, by saving you from the prison." Pyronica winked and puffed out her chest, with a wide, satisfied smile. "I'm brilliant."

"And very modest too," Hectorgon intervened. "Coincidentally, who's the one you get along best with?"

"If it was an insult, it didn't work," she replied, waving her hair. "Bill and I are the most stylish and cool of the company: we all know that so why deny it?" and she held out a hand to Bill, who gave her a high"five.

Hectorgon replied with a deep sigh of resignation. If he had eyes, no doubt he would have rolled them.

"What awful friends we have," Bill said, nudging Pyronica.

"We should leave them here and see if they survive," she agreed, with a wide amused grin.

"After a week of starvation, I'm pretty sure they'll start to show some more appreciation."

"Uhm... we could eat something in a week, boss," Teeth replied.

"Like those things in there," Keyhole agreed, pointing to the little world on the giant turtle's carapace.

"And the turtle too," Teeth added. "Uhm... do you think it will notice, if I stick to one of its legs and eat a piece every day?"

"You can't eat the turtle, Teeth," Keyhole replied.

"Well, it depends." Bill leaned forward, with a look of intense concentration. "If we made a list of who's the best among us, who would you put in the first place?"

"Oh, come on!" Keyhole laughed.

"You, boss!" Teeth exclaimed.

"See? Who’s the one with good taste?" Bill raised a hand to Teeth. "The most tender and innocent."

"Does that mean I can eat the turtle?"

"You can't eat the turtle," Bill replied. "But I'll take you to a place where you'll feed the belly you don't have."

"I'm in!"

"Does this Dimension survive?" Pyronica asked, standing up.

"Yes," Bill floated up. "Maybe we'll go back in a billion centuries and let the two turtles collide."

And, with a snap of his fingers, they jumped again through the Sixth Dimension.

"Don't you get tired?"

Bill turned to Kryptos. The flames' light drew blue reflections on his wide"open eye, brighter lights floating on the abyss of the black pupil.

"I never get tired of the fire," Bill replied. His gaze came back to the flames. "Or you're talking about finding too similar Dimensions? That's annoying, I agree, but sometimes there's something worthy of survival and that's great."

Bill's blue fire was circling a red giant: thin chains of flames collected every eruption from the star, every tongue of fire that blew itself from the incandescent surface.

"Are you already tired, Kryptos?" Bill asked. He turned his gaze to him, half"closed eye bent in a sarcastic smile. "Is all you've seen in these millennia enough for you? Are you already satisfied?"

Kryptos rubbed his arm.

"Well... not really..." he admitted.

"Enjoy life, then." He put an arm around his shoulders and pointed to the sea of fire in front of them. "Just look at the flames. Listen to how they sing! Aren't they wonderful?"

"Uhm... I..."

"Right, right, separate senses." Bill interrupted him, patting his shape. "Anyway, time for us to get back on the road: there's still much to explore and the Multiverse is big."

Bill released him and floated away from the flaming show. Kryptos turned to look at his triangular back: millennia had passed and that figure was still a mystery. Where did those incredible powers come from? How had he got them? What did he have in mind? What would have happened, once they would reach the end of the Multiverse and explored every possible Dimension?

What will become of us?

What will become of you?

Will I ever understand you?

Bill was talking to 8-Ball. He raised two fingers, ready to snap. He turned back, to meet his gaze. His all"seeing eye bent into a smile and he held out his other hand.

Kryptos floated closer and took Bill's hand, at the same time as the snap of the dimensional jump echoed around him.

"Surpriseee!"

Bill raised both arms, showing the bar sign in front of them as if he were a magician who pulled a quantum rabbit out of his hat.

Kryptos and Hectorgon looked at the sign with puzzled expressions, a monochord duet of cello and tuba which was dominated by the lively music of the others: Keyhole and Teeth were gaping, 8-Ball nodded in appreciation, Pyronica let out a delighted scream. Even Paci-fire, while maintaining his usual sulky expression, could not prevent his black from crackling louder, as a sign of understanding.

"I didn't know you knew the String," 8-Ball said. 

"It's the most famous bar in the whole Multiverse!" Pyronica’s flames flickered, excited.

"Why are we here?" Keyhole asked.

"To have fun," Bill replied. "I just want to spoil you a bit. It's been a while since we started to jump around and all we see are just boring Dimensions! It's time to relax and enjoy ourselves. And it seems that here we can find drinks that can't be found anywhere else in the Multiverse. so guess what? We'll try them all!"

"These are your best ideas." Hectorgon smacked his lips, a smile that was softening the red sound of his shape. "I'm in."

Pyronica brought both hands to her mouth and bounced on the spot, delighted.

"Don't tell me you booked a table centuries ago!" she squealed.

"No."

Pyronica's enthusiasm died out.

"So how do we get in?"

"Come on, there will be a free table," Kryptos shrugged. "It's just a bar, after all."

"Just a bar?!" Pyronica repeated, with a shrilling tone. "Do you know how big the Multiverse is? And this is the most famous bar! It's all booked until the next millennium!"

"True." Bill straightened his bow tie and opened the door. "But don't worry: they'll find a place for us."

As he turned, he found himself in front of a bouncer as wide as the door: a muscular Larmal, with a reptilian muzzle covered with scales of a soft, silky red.

Yur, senior bouncer, 45 summers.

"Name."

"Hey there!" Bill raised a hand, cheerful. "Can I talk to the owner?"

The bouncer looked at him, his three eyes narrowed in a triple-pointed purple gaze.

"Out."

"I beg you PARDON?" Bill floated closer, his voice dropped to his darker tone. "I thought customers were treated a little better in such a FAMOUS place." He blinked and his eye turned red. "Then let me rephrase my question: I'm Bill Cipher and I DEMAND to speak with Javlan Jalvanus."

Yur’s three eyes opened wide, shivers of terror ran down his muscles in front of the scarlet light of his gaze. He bowed, bringing his hands over his head as a sign of veneration, over and over again.

"Forgive me, All"Knowing Eye!" He repeated. "I'll call Mister Jalvanus at once, please have mercy!"

Bill raised one hand and made the blue fire appear between his fingers.

"If I don't see him here within thirty seconds, I'll burn this Dimension to the ground," he said. "Have I been CLEAR enough or should I REPEAT myself?"

Yur ran into the club as if he had been chased by his fire.

"Overreacting as always," Hectorgon commented. "Wasn't asking enough?"

Bill blinked, his eye shifted back to normal. He turned, making the blue flame disappear with a wave of his fingers.

"I'm a celebrity now, it's unacceptable that I'm not instantly recognized!" He replied, bringing a hand to his side, in a charming gesture. "How many other golden Triangles like me do you think there are, in the whole Multiverse?"

"One is already too much."

"Is that so? Then no drinks for you." Bill laughed. "I'll order them to not serve you and not listen to you. I won't even give you a glass of water."

"Pff sure," the Hexagon replied. "And who are you going to do the drinking contest with? Paci-fire and Pyronica only?"

Bill stuck his tongue out and turned: as expected, Yur reappeared, followed by Javlan Jalvanus himself. As he got closer, their eyes met and the three aquamarine eyes of the owner of the String widened in surprise.

He's here?

Yes, Bill thought, putting his hands behind the shape. I'm here.

"Bill Cipher." Jalvanus smoothed the lapels of his suit. His voice showed only a slight tinge of surprise. "Can we speak inside, in private?"

"Why not?" he turned around. "Guys, I'm sure that Yur will treat you very well, while we have a chat." His eye turned to the bouncer. "Right?"

"Absolutely." Jalvanus agreed. "Yur, offer them drinks and give them a seat."

Yur bowed again, bringing his hands over his head. He was shaking.

And he should.

"Yes, sir."

"Please, follow me." Jalvanus led the way, with flawless courtesy. "My office is upstairs."

Bill followed him, hands still behind his shape, casually looking around. Jalvanus walked as if he was perfectly calm, but his shoulder line was tense: he was afraid of him.

Good.

Jalvanus opened his office door and gave way to him. Bill floated inside and sat on the sofa in front of the desk: it was covered by red silk, the color softer and redder thanks to that perfect overlapping of sight and touch.

"He has very good taste in the choice of furniture," Bill said.

"Thank you." Jalvanus sat down on the other side of the desk and interlaced his fingers, in a friendly and relaxed gesture. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of such a visit?"

"It's very simple," Bill replied. "I want your best private lounge for me and my friends."

The whole shape of Jalvanus tensed.

"For how long?"

"I don't know." Bill looked at his nails, with a studied air of disregard. "When I enter a bar, I don't expect to have a time limit."

"Of course." Jalvanus swallowed. "But the String isn't a common bar. All customers respect a set time, since the waiting list is one thousand three hundred and twenty years long."

"I'm sure you'll be able to bend the rules for me a tiny bit," Bill replied, looking at him from under his lashes. He raised his index finger and a blue flame appeared on its top. "If you care about your business at all."

Jalvanus' eyes were glued to the flame, captured by its light. Finally, he blinked and swallowed again.

"If you want the private lounge, Mr. Cipher, you must respect a deal," he said, in a more candid voice. "You can have it as long as you want. Heck, I'll book it under your name forever, if necessary. But you must promise me you'll never destroy this Dimension."

"I also want everything for free."

Jalvanus pursed his lips, just for a moment. Then his shoulders relaxed and he snorted.

"Fine."

"Excellent," Bill held out his hand. "It's a deal."

Without having foreseen or just wanted it, blue flames enveloped his hand. They were not the usual flames, devourers of Dimensions: they were cold, more ethereal in consistency than the dense ones he could evoke with his will. It was as if they were a consequence of his words.

Weird.

Jalvanus hesitated for a moment, looking at the fire with wide eyes, his pupils thin with fear. He approached his hand carefully until he touched the flames with his fingertips. When he realized that they were not burning him, he put his whole hand in the fire and squeezed Bill’s firmly.

The moment their hands tightened, a funny sensation ran across Bill's arm, from his palm to the shoulder: it was as if a nerve strained, a golden thread stretched across the limb. It lasted just a moment, then their hands separated and the flames disappeared as well.

What a delightful oddity.

"Great!" He exclaimed first and Jalvanus lifted his gaze from his own hand, that he was examining from all sides, as if looking for traces of fire on the scaly skin. "Will you free the private lounge for me?"

"Uh?" Jalvanus looked up. "Yes... yes, of course. I'm going to do it right now." He got to his feet, still massaging his hand, and left his office, leaving Bill alone.

Bill looked down at his hand, turned it over, and rubbed his forearm: nothing had changed, everything was still the same and there was no pain. It was as if that invisible thread had never stretched.

What happened? What does that mean?

He summoned again the blue flame, but it was the usual flame, devourer of Dimensions: it did not look at all like the blue one that activated while they spoke.

Another power?

Other possibilities, the voices of omniscience answered.

"Mr. Cipher." Jalvanus was back and it looked like he regained full control of the situation. He smoothed the lapels of his suit again. "The private lounge is free. Yur has already escorted your friends there."

"Perfect." Bill got up floating and brought his hands behind the shape. "Can you show me where it is?"

"Of course." Jalvanus led him out of the office. "Follow me."

The owner of the String escorted him along the corridor lined with doors and on the walkway, from which they could peek over the huge rooms below. Even if they were several meters lower than them, their colors reached Bill anyway, spread tentacles of perfume and whispers of melodies up to the ceiling, touched him with fabrics and flavors, inviting him to look.

While still following Jalvanus, Bill approached the edge of the walkway and glanced down: it was an orchestra of colors, chaotic and confusing, with contrasting flavors and overlapping voices.

"You certainly don't lack customers, Jalvanus," he said.

The owner of the String clenched his fists.

"The private lounge alone guarantees more income than the entire bar," he replied, with a hint of resentment in his voice.

"Oh well, you'll have to give it up," Bill replied in a singsong voice, moving away from the edge of the walkway. "Now It's booked in my name forever."

Jalvanus' back tensed like a rope, the scales on his hands took a green hue. He raised one hand and cleared his throat.

"At least this Dimension is safe."

"Oh wow, such consolation," Bill replied. "You saved the lives of your mortal little customers and the income from your multi"billionaire business. What a hero, they'll make a huge statue to thank you."

"At least it'll be a statue made out of gratitude, not out of fear," he replied sharply.

That tone crossed him from side to side, anger seething in the center of his shape. Bill narrowed his eye and clenched his hands. How dare he talk to him like that? Who did he think he was? He was just the owner of a stupid bar. And he believed everything Time Police said about Bill. He knew nothing of the Dimensions that worshipped him as a righteous god.

And he STILL dared to talk to him like that?!

Bill raised one hand. Perhaps, if the bar's right wing burned down, Jalvanus would have remembered who was the god between them and who the pathetic mortal was and that he should've crawled and asked for Bill's pity...

The flame did not appear. Bill looked at his raised hand, opened and closed it again: a blue flame flicked in the center of his palm and disappeared.

Why?

The cold flame, the handshake, the golden thread that stretched across his limb.

"But you must promise me you'll never destroy this Dimension."

Awareness made his eye widen.

So that's how a real deal is.

He had made several deals so far, but only verbal ones. And, as he had been taught millennia before in a long"dead Dimension, a word"only deal was not binding: it could be broken, turned over, ignored. It was impossible to verify it, so anything could happen and everything was legal.

But when the deal was sealed by a handshake, it became a binding pact. Neither side could break it anymore, nor ignore it. It was the rule of the merchants from the Second Dimension.

He looked at his arm, turned his hand back and forth. That rule was now within him: it was in his nerves, part of his power.

I can do this too.

A new power.

He smiled. This made things even more fun: a good dealer knew how to make agreements that turned in his favor, by making the customer believe he was the one losing money. It was one of the fundamental skills of those who were born in the merchant class.

And he was the best merchant ever born.

“You are indeed very skilled, Lelx. Always remember two things: you don't need to lie to get good deals and think about the consequences of what you promise. At the end of the day, you're the one who has to gain more and not your customers."

He blinked several times, annoyed. That inner voice had a distant echo, too distant in time and he did not want to dwell on the memory of the Triangle to which it belonged. He pushed it back into his mind and focused on Jalvanus, who was opening a door for him, inviting him inside the private lounge: a semicircular space filled with tapestries, cushions and the ecstatic smiles of his friends.

"It's awesome in here, boss!"

Bill entered the room, letting himself be surrounded by music and laughter.

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 22

"Maybe you got a bit carried away this time," Kryptos said.

"I offered them a pretty sweet deal!" Bill replied. "I left everyone alive! In return, I just asked for all their mineral resources."

"They need minerals to live."

"But they don't eat them," Bill replied. "They’re just used to trade with Dimension 55'. And since I destroyed it two days ago, minerals are now useless to them."

Kryptos rolled his eye, giving up. If Bill said he was right, nothing and nobody would change his mind. In this, he was definitely a merchant: standing by his decision and not willing to give more than necessary to the customer.

Kryptos had never seen Bill negotiate. When he met him, at the time when he was still called Lelx, he was locked in prison. He knew that Lelx was an excellent merchant, only thanks to the testimonies of customers, the school teacher and Lelx himself. Later, when those still inexplicable powers had appeared and Lelx had become Bill, he had never really dealt with anyone: his powers were so vast that all he had to do was show them to terrify others and get everything he wanted.

But since their visit to the String, Bill had started to make deals. Now if he liked a Dimension, he proposed a deal to the inhabitants. If the deal was accepted, the Dimension was saved. If it was rejected, then it burned.

And Bill was so damn good at dealing.

Before, when he was satisfied, he gave knowledge and wisdom with both hands. The old Dimensions spared were still prospering, rich and powerful, praising his name as that of the Omniscient God, the All-Seeing Eye, the Lord of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

But now knowledge was given with the dropper. And, for every fragment of knowledge, Bill wanted something in return.

At first, Kryptos thought his technique would be a complete failure. Which people would have been so desperate, to sell out for a piece of knowledge? It was true that a couple of Dimensions thrived thanks to Bill's knowledge, were a lot richer than before and their names were known in the Multiverse... but could it be enough to push many others to try?

He had not taken into account that the creatures Bill spoke to were mortals. Simple mortals who wanted the best for themselves, for their life regulated by the passage of time. Limited creatures, with only one occasion to have glory and wealth. Selfish beings who wanted more and more.

He had forgotten those needs. Mortality and little daily problems no longer made any sense, since he joined Bill. He no longer had a house in one Dimension, taxes to pay, a family to hold him back, a job that paid him a living, a sum of years before his death. He could go anywhere and do everything, for as long as he wanted: death had become something indistinct, too far away to worry about it.

Thus began the deals. Some luckier Dimensions had advantageous ones: they maintained a certain autonomy and gained enough knowledge, to thrive in a balanced way. Others had wanted too much and thrived too quickly, collapsing on themselves and starting civil wars. Others had literally sold themselves to Bill, in the spasmodic desire for more power. And Bill led them by the hand towards self-destruction.

He was truly the best merchant Kryptos had ever met.

"What are you going to do with those minerals, anyway?" Pyronica asked, entering the conversation.

"They're excellent exchange goods for future deals," Bill explained. "Mortals are so selfish and greedy, that a couple of precious stones are enough to make them happy. I'm just waiting to find a very interesting Dimension: then all I have to do will be go to the leader and spill on them all the little stones they want. So they'll be happy with their wealth and I'll take what I want."

"What if they refuse?" Pyronica replied. "Or worse: if they don't want to make any deal?"

"Then it would be their fault entirely." Bill put one hand on his shape and, with the other, pretended to wipe a nonexistent tear from the eye. "I just wanted to bring knowledge and I wanted to do it in peace. But they didn't want to hear the reasons. I threatened to destroy their kingdom and they didn't listen to me. I razed half of it and they continued to stick to their decision. Their choices cost so many innocent lives. If they were still leading, they would've condemned you all. I won't be like this. I'll put your desires first. I'll give you peace and prosperity." He smiled, narrowing his eye. "I will be a better ruler."

Pyronica elbowed him with a broad, predatory smile.

"You're terrible."

"I make deals, not works of charity," he replied with a wink. "And if I like something, I always find a way to have it."

"Lord Cipher"

That voice distracted Bill, dispersing the ones of omniscience that whispered around him. He moved away from the window and floated to the center of the room.

The voice came from behind the yellow screen, which separated the common space of the palace from the private one reserved for the God. It was so stupid: the inhabitants of Roher considered him their God, they knelt and praised him, but they did not want to look at him directly, because " Your image is too sacred, my Lord .". But what about the satisfaction of seeing them with their hanging mouths and adoring eyes, while admiring him in all of his triangular perfection?

Still, he had to admit that the screen gave him a certain aura of mystery, almost an unattainable charm. He was a hidden figure, too wonderful and powerful.

Maybe I'll keep it for a couple more centuries.

"What is it, Hozev?" he asked.

"A traveler has just arrived, coming from distant lands," the guard replied. "He asks to have an audience."

Distant lands, huh? So it was not from Roher, but from some other Dimension. And it knew Bill. Maybe it came from a Dimension in which he had already been? Or was it just someone who had heard of him?

The voices of omniscience whispered their answers, but Bill rejected them in the ocean of his powers. It was not necessary to know, when he would find out shortly thereafter. It was not worth spoiling the surprise.

"Bring him in," he ordered. "He'll have his hearing right now."

He floated to the throne and barely had time to sit between the cushions, when a shape appeared on the other side of the screen: medium build, with four arms and two antennas. A Sergariant? Or maybe a Hamman?

With a gesture of the finger, the screen moved away, revealing the figure. It was a Hamman: he had a jacket full of pockets, a duffel bag on his shoulder and an interdimensional translator hooked around his neck. The antennas protruded from two holes in the helmet and the eyes were protected by a pair of iridescent glasses. The only part of the face visible was his blue mouth, thin and parted.

The Hamman stepped in, taking off his glasses: his three eyes were orange, green and blue, two stringed instruments accompanied by the reverberation of a bell, spices and pepper on an apple background.

"Bill Cipher," he murmured in a stunned voice, going over his figure with his eyes several times.

"In person!" Bill crossed his legs and held out a hand toward him. "And you're Recot, from Dimension 4. You're a long way from home! Have you traveled a lot?"

"I…"

"You're an explorer of Dimensions, I know," Bill interrupted him. "Have they made you welcome? Surely it was better here than on Yargenna, am I right?"

Recot stopped at the base of the throne and placed his bag on the ground, without taking his eyes off Bill.

"You’re here," he murmured incredulously. "I thought Roherians didn't understand me when they said they had the All-Seeing Eye with them. I thought this thing broke." He patted the translator. "But you're really here."

"You were lucky to find the right Dimension." Bill crossed his legs and leaned against the back of the throne. "Were you looking for me?"

Recot lowered his head, with an embarrassed laugh.

"I never really thought I could find you," he admitted, "But I hoped for it, like many others in the Multiverse."

"Oh really?" Bill narrowed his eye, curious. "Are there many creatures looking for me?"

"Billions of creatures throughout the Multiverse," Recot confirmed. "I met many who worship and pray you, because they think you'll answer, sooner or later. Others have been waiting for your arrival since they were young and now, even if they're in their dying phase, they're still waiting. Thousands died, waiting all of their lives and thinking until their last moment that you would come."

Interesting.

He had never paid too much attention to those distant voices he heard, to the indistinct prayers. They were just a whisper, which came and went. He had not taken into account that, what was a second for him, was a whole life for mortals.

"And what do they want from me that’s so important, to wait for me all their lives?"

"An opportunity." Recot extended his arms in front of him, his hands open. "Many people have an impossible desire, which only you can fulfill. But mostly want to join your group: being with you means being immortal, revered and powerful. And your group is feared across the Multiverse." Recot's eyes flashed rapidly along the walls of the room. "They say that creatures of terrible fame are part of it: Paci-fire, the Nationslayer and the eternal prisoner 8-Ball, the One Who's Impossible to Rehabilitate."

"They're both there," Bill confirmed. He loosened his legs and crossed them in the opposite direction. "Do you want to join my group too?"

"I would be honored." Recot bowed. "But that's not why I was looking for you."

Bill waited for him to keep talking, curious. Recot straightened up and looked at him with his three eyes.

"I've heard many voices while traveling," he went on. "And I've spoken with many creatures. There are hundreds of stories about you, in all the Dimensions I visited. In many of them, you're described as a fickle and arrogant god who can bring glory and prosperity with a snap of your fingers, but you can also destroy everything with the same ease. Many call you "Lord of Knowledge" because your knowledge is unparalleled in the whole Multiverse and nothing can escape your omniscient eye."  His eyes veiled in awe. "And many others say that you're invincible and immortal: nothing and nobody can stand up to you, not even the Lord of Time."

"Do you mean Time Baby?" Bill chuckled, gloating. "That stupid baby doesn't stand a chance against me! And he knows it well: when we met, I destroyed his prison and let all his criminals escape. I bet he's still trying to get them back."

Recot's eyes widened.

"Then this story was also true," he commented, amazed. "The Infinitentiary wasn't built, as Time Baby said, because the old prison was unsafe. He built it because the old prison had been razed. By you."

"That's right," Bill confirmed proudly. He lifted his index finger and a blue flame appeared on the top. "He can build two hundred more, for all I care. If I wanted to destroy them, a finger would be enough."

He looked at Recot, with his eye folded into a sharp smile. Is this what you're looking for?

"I don't... I don't look for this." Recot answered the mental question, hardly managing to look away from the blue flame. "I was searching for you, because of the stories about your dream power."

Bill blew the flame out of his finger and put his hand back on the pillows. Even more interesting. Then someone started talking about his appearance in people's dreams! After centuries from Kermen, the first creature who had managed to see him while he slept, Bill had chatted with many others, scattered in every Dimension. Some had recognized him as real and not a result of their imagination, others had collected his orders and obeyed once awake.

So his influence had not been limited to a couple of days, but had been so incisive to leave a memory in the minds of mortals, to the point of making them talk about him.

"Many creatures say they met you during their sleep," Recot explained. "That you're able to enter their minds, talk to them, give directions and knowledge. You can take information and show dreamers their own memories."

"I can do it," Bill said.

To tell the truth, information and memories were unconsciously taken from the dreamers themselves and he simply presented them back to the dreamer. But Recot did not have to know those details.

Bend reality without having to lie. The rule of every good merchant.

Recot swallowed.

"Can you do it with an awake person?"

Bill leaned back, interested.

"Explain yourself," he invited him.

Recot took a deep breath.

"There's a thought that's tormenting me," he revealed. "I've been thinking of a female for years. Salla. I met her only twice, during my travels. She has never been interested in me, but I keep seeing her eyes in my mind. I can't get interested in something else and I can never rest, because every time I try, she appears before me." He looked Bill straight in the eye. "I'm willing to do anything, to go back and live peacefully again."

Bill joined his fingertips, thinking about it. He had never managed to enter a creature's mental space: the dreamlike roads allowed him access to dreams, but those were nothing more than islands, spaces created by the dreamer itself within the largest space that was its mind. Bill had tried to cross that border, but the minds of the dreamers were still denied him, protected behind the impalpable walls of the dreamlike islands.

But perhaps if he had been allowed to enter by the creature itself, maybe through a deal...

You can do a lot.

Much more.

Bill looked over Recot's fingers.

"What are you willing to give in exchange for this peace?"

Recot bent over and opened his bag.

"I found this," he said, rummaging inside. "Five years ago, on the top of a mountain. It's the most precious thing I own. It looks like nothing I've ever seen and I've kept it." He laughed, embarrassed. "Hoping that, if I ever met Bill Cipher one day, I could've offered it to him as a token."

Recot took out a black box, as big as his hand. He lifted the lid and a dazzling white light erupted from inside, more powerful than Roher's sun rays coming through the windows. Recot slipped his hand inside the box, pulled it out and opened it, revealing a bright sphere floating a couple of inches from his palm.

Bill lowered his arms and floated up, unable to look away, attracted to that light like a magnet. He couldn't believe his eye.

It's impossible.

He had seen that white light before. He had seen it millennia before, forced into the space of the Two Dimensions, sheltered inside a casket. It was dazzling, whiter than anything else, whiter than the light that filtered through the Fog. It was one of the most precious objects he could have ever bought and the most mysterious in the whole Multiverse.

A glow point.

Bill held out his hands and the sphere kept floating above his palms. It was perfectly round, as big as a marble, and emitted that incredible light, harsh white, slow as the breathing of a sleeping creature. Because that's what it was, after all: a sleeping Dimension, trapped in its larval stage.

"Can you help me?"

Those words got him out of his trance. Bill turned his eye to Recot, who was staring at him with a hopeful gaze. He looked back at the glow point, shining in his hands. He turned and, with extreme delicacy, made the point float away from his hands, towards the throne, until it stopped between the soft cushions.

"Okay." He turned back to Recot and held out his hand: blue flames enveloped it. "Then it's a deal."

Recot swallowed, his three eyes captured by the light of the fire. He nodded once, reached into the fire and squeezed his hand.

Bill expected the familiar pull, the usual golden thread that stretched across his arm and sealed the pact. Instead, something different happened.

The colors' melody was silenced by gray, which covered everything and stifled the white breath of the sun. Bill blinked and, starting from his hand, he felt himself flowing out of his own shape as if he had become a silk ribbon. He found himself floating high, weightless as when he moved along the dreamlike bridges, as if he had left the weight of his body behind.

He raised his hands in front of him: they had become gray in the gray world, but with a golden light outline that delimited his entire figure, pulsing with power.

The form of the dream world.

Mental form.

Quantum form.

Electron.

Pure energy.

He looked down and saw his physical body: he truly had really left it behind, reduced to a simple gray stone: a statue, standing on his feet and with a hand stretched out. Recot was next to his petrified body, his gaze kept moving from Bill’s stony form to his energetic form, his mouth wide open in shock. His legs trembled and he fell to the ground, trying to step back.

"What... what…?"

Come in.

A dreamlike bridge appeared before the eye of Bill’s mind, showing him the way. Bill let himself be attracted and Recot's mind opened its doors to him, even though the owner was still awake.

Bill laughed enthusiastically. A new power!

He was thrown inside at a dizzying speed. Bill narrowed his eye in front of that attractive force and the speed decreased, little by little, until it went out completely.

Once stopped, Bill blinked and opened his eye again: white surrounded him, just the same, infinite white. Uh, this was unexpected. A mental space did not have to look like that.

"What's happening?"

The sudden presence of a voice took him by surprise. Bill spun around and saw Recot behind him. He was standing, in the same clothes he wore, and was massaging his head with one hand, swinging the antennas in all directions.

His mental projection? Here?

Bill blinked and awareness flowed through him. He remembered his own form of golden light, the physical one made of stone. Of course: if Bill had entered Recot’s mind with his mental form, then Recot must have done it too.

"Huh?" Recot looked around. "Where... where are we?"

And if he was in his personal space, he just had to understand it.

"This..." Bill raised his hands, "This is the Mindscape."

Before his words, Recot blinked and, in that blink, Bill caught a spark of understanding. It was a split second, but enough to make large drops of color flow from the white sky, tracing strips of melody in the uncut environment.

"The Mindscape is the mental world," Bill continued, "And this is your own mental space."

"My own mental space," Recot repeated, still stunned. He turned around, while the color flowed in thicker, richer, faster strips. "How... how did I not recognize it?"

The last segments of white got covered by rivulets of color. Around them there was no longer a harsh breath: there was the red and orange of the houses, the spicy green of the stalls, the deep blue of the trees. And, among them, smaller colored spots: figures similar to Recot, stuck in the act of walking, laughing, buying, with coins suspended in midair and long robes with immobile folds.

Recot looked at everything in amazement and started walking among the still figures, turning to look at each of them, dwelling on their faces.

"Aunt, Mom, Ertin..." he murmured, calling each of them. "Me, when I was eight summers."

He touched one of them and an image appeared on its motionless tunic: a younger Recot, hand in hand with a taller female, who was offering him a ball of sugar. Younger Recot took it and devoured it whole. The female laughed and the scene started again, stuck in a loop.

"I remember that time," he said, pausing in front of another image that kept repeating in a loop. "It was the hottest season. I was with Mom, in Lakivadasia."

Recot started walking again and Bill followed him, wandering in that motionless market, where the only living things were the two of them. Bill touched a figure and another video started, showing another memory of Recot.

So that's how a mental island works.

Until then, he had only explored the dreamlike coating, in which the fantasy worlds of dreams were projected, the impossible scenes resulting from the amalgamation of multiple events that occurred during the wake time. Bill had always moved in that space, interfering with the dreamlike scenes, adding details and creating new images. He had never been able to access the real mental island, the world behind the illusory projected by the dream: he had only been able to grasp fragments of it, rapid images suspended between sleep and wakefulness. But he had never been able to enter.

Until now.

The Dreamscape was variable and fluid, it was a hologram at his mercy, over which the dreamer had little or no influence. It was a world in which the dreamer pursued goals and sometimes it was so caught up in them, that it didn't even notice Bill's presence. At other times, however, the dreamer was lucid and able to control the dream world, to bend it to its desires. The dreamer could see Bill, talk to him, remember his words. And, if well stimulated, the dreamer could unconsciously raise their memories from the inaccessible space of the mind.

There in the Mindscape, the dreamer was free and lucid. He was not deceived by imaginary goals, he did not move in an illusory world. He could perceive his own presence in a familiar space, surrounded by his memories and thoughts. Memories and thoughts were not only accessible to him but also to Bill.

That was the real mind. And Bill was inside it.

"It looks so familiar to me," he heard Recot speak, as he kept walking among the figures of his life. "Yet I don't remember ever being here."

"Because this is your mind," Bill replied, catching up with him. "Usually, you never visit it in person. What you see most often is the dreamlike space that covers it." He put his hands behind the shape and turned to look at him. "So, did you find this memory you want to delete?"

"Oh, right." Recot nodded and picked up the pace, looking around. Bill moved a hand towards the horizon: the market swayed, but did not disappear. He folded a finger and a flying eel appeared on the top of a house.

So he could not change the whole landscape but just add small things. Good to know.

Recot stopped, caught by something in front of him. Bill followed the direction of his gaze and saw a platform in the center of a circular space. Many figures looked in that direction, still and smiling expressions facing the stage.

There was only one figure on the stage: a female of Recot's same species, suspended in the act of dancing. Her back was bent, her head reclined and two of the four arms raised above her head. The veils around her wrists were two perfect arches, motionless in midair. The other veils that covered her torso and legs were also suspended, translucent waves echoing her movements.

"Is she your problem?" Bill commented, watching the dancer.

"Salla." Recot turned to him. "Can you do something?"

"Sure I can!" Bill loosened his hands from behind the shape and rose high above the motionless crowd. "Leave it to me!"

He stretched an arm toward the dancer and narrowed his eye: evoked by his will, blue flames broke out from his palm and stretched up and down, forming a fiery bow. He approached the other hand to the bow and, between his fingers, broke out a flame that took the shape of an arrow. He placed it on the bow and aimed.

The fiery dart hit the dancer and, for a moment, her veils flickered, revealing confused images, fragments of memories wrapped in a loop. Then the arrow came out of her, hit the stage and blue flames erupted, flared up and widened, engulfing Salla's figure and the whole platform. Bill opened his eye and spread his hands: the fire started to extend, towards the feet of the motionless memories...

The golden thread tensed within him and his arms stopped. The fire retreated and kept burning around the stage, in a bud of flames.

A deal is a deal.

He lowered his arms and floated down to the ground, back to Recot: his eyes were wide open while watching that enclosed fire that was consuming itself.

"See? I told you I could do it," Bill gloated. He raised his fingers. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"

He snapped his fingers and the fire went out. A second snap and the Mindscape trembled around them, before disappearing.

Bill opened his eye wide and swayed on his legs, then fell backward. He felt the floor against his back, his heels, his elbows. He sat up, blinking.

He was in the throne room, with the golden screen that hid the entrance. The white light of Roher's sun came in through the windows. Bill grabbed a wrist, folded his fingers, clapped his knuckles against the shape: he was back in his physical body.

In front of him, Recot jumped up and looked around, frantic and confused.

"A... All-Seeing Eye?!"

"Ah... ah... ahahaha!" Bill laughed, trembling with excitement. The ocean of power seethed inside him, as he descended a little further towards the bottom.

Form of pure energy.

Mindscape.

Access through a pact.

Myriads of information invested him altogether, the results of his experience confirmed by omniscience, the dream world map, the bridges, the Mindscape and its possibilities compared to the Dreamscape...

"See?" He yelled, spreading his arms. "I told you I could solve everything!" He laughed again, drunk with satisfaction.

There was no limit to his power. There was no limit to the worlds he could visit. Just when he thought he had reached a limit, he found a way to go further!

Nothing can stop me.

Recot scratched his head and looked at him perplexed.

"Solve... what?"

"Your problem!" Bill exclaimed, enthusiastic. "See how I did it?"

But Recot kept looking at him perplexed.

"What problem?"

The laughter died, enthusiasm blew off. Bill lowered his arms. Of course. Once the memory that tormented him and that was the cause of his problem was deleted, Recot had forgotten the reason why he had asked for his help in the first place.

Perhaps it was better this way. It was the first time Bill entered a mind and there were still so many things to see, try, and understand. It was still early to let people know about this ability.

This time, I'll keep this for myself.

Bill rose in midair. He put both hands behind the shape and narrowed his eye, giving Recot his most lovely smile.

"No problem, my friend," he said. "It's all right. You can go."

Recot, obedient and still perplexed, did as he was told.

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 23

Eventually, Roher's Dimension bored him too and Bill jumped again. But this time he had a black box with him, tied around his wrist with a string. When Kryptos asked what was inside, Bill smiled and stroked it gently.

"A token worth a Dimension," he replied.

The next universes they visited were mostly empty and inconsistent, except for Kop09 and Mesta. In both worlds, the inhabitants refused to submit themselves to Bill and fought him, using every means possible. The Kopians even managed to build a trap, which stopped him for two whole minutes. When Bill broke free, he poured fire on the ground and let it envelop the buildings, trees, every single lamppost and vehicle, up to the rails of the suspended trains.

Then the fire went out and Bill just left.

"Kill the inhabitants? Why should I have?" He replied as if Kryptos had asked him the strangest thing ever. "I had so much fun when they fought back! Now they've seen what I'm capable of, so they'll build better weapons to fight me: so when I'll come back to play with them, it'll be even more fun!"

Even the inhabitants of Mesta attacked him - or, at least, they tried. When it became clear that they would never be able to defeat him, they turned their weapons and killed each other.

"It was stupid," Bill declared, as fire poured out of his hand and devoured the entire planetary system. Anger was flashing in his eye. "All stupid. All wrong. They had to surrender. Or keep fighting! Now there's nothing left that makes this place worth living."

He was still in a gloomy mood when he jumped again and two worlds died without Bill bothering to talk to their inhabitants: he raised his hand, declared that nothing was interesting and his blue flames consumed the entire universe. He did not even enjoy their hypnotic show, but his eye was already looking beyond, to the nearest Dimension.

On the third jump, Bill took them to the top of a giant glass dome. Kryptos lowered his gaze and, under his feet, he saw the tops of roofs, roads, creatures as small as insects, twisted trees, obelisks. It was like being on the giant turtle again, with the difference that there was not a whole world under the dome but only a small town, with fewer houses and buildings.

He raised his head and saw other domes all around, each with a small city inside and creatures as small as insects. In the space between the domes, the surface of the planet was bare: nothing but yellow, dry and inhospitable ground.

"Ucron 9."

Kryptos turned around: it was Paci-fire who spoke, his two pairs of eyes both facing the domes.

"Do you already know this place?" Keyhole intervened.

"I saw it centuries ago," he replied, in his usual cavernous tone. "Isn’t changed too much.”

Urgh, fantastic, no change. Bill was already burning unknown worlds just by looking at them, this was doomed. Kryptos turned to him, ready to narrow his eye before the blue light of the fire.

But there was no fire. Bill had not released his flames. His arms hung down the sides, his hands were empty. He stood motionless, looking around with a bored expression.

Bored, but present.

His gaze was no longer empty, lost between Dimensions. He was not ignoring the Dimension he was in, to look further beyond. He was evaluating that place and gathering information.

Maybe Ucron 9 would not die so soon.

Bill raised a hand and snapped his fingers: the glass under their feet shattered into millions of splinters, the size of buildings. With a wave of the hand, the splinters moved, tracing a broken glass ring around them and leaving a gap under their feet, large enough for them to go in.

Bill went down first, floating light as a feather. Pyronica reached the ground first, followed by everyone else. Kryptos took a cautious breath: if Bill wanted to go inside, it meant that he wanted to talk to the inhabitants of that Dimension. And, if he wanted to talk to the inhabitants of that Dimension, maybe he was in a good mood again.

I just hope these mortals are interesting enough to entertain him.

Many Ucronians stopped and followed their descent, some leaned out of the buildings, others came to meet them, intrigued. Among them, there was an old Ucronian with a long blue beard, who opened his four eyes wide and stopped his neighbors from coming closer.

When he spoke, he did it in the Common Language.

"Bill Cipher."

Ucronians seemed to wake up from a dream: they all threw themselves on their knees, some with folded hands and others with bowed heads, some praying, some pleading, some crying.

"All-Seeing Eye, please have mercy!"

"Our families...!"

"The technological breakthroughs..."

"... a very important research...!"

"We can offer so much!"

"You know that for sure!"

Bill looked down on the kneeling Ucronians. His eye was still bored.

"It's just like you said, Paci-fire," he commented, looking around. "There's nothing interesting here."

The bearded Ucronian approached, then bent on one knee.

"All-Seeing Eye," he began, "We Ucronians are the best scientists in the Multiverse. Our research made all Dimensions progress, from here to Cresk. We brought life to the deserted Misla, we created the quantum levitation system and the Arginator. And we still have dozens of research going on in every field. We can still do a lot for the Multiverse."

"Oh really?" Bill asked, crossing his arms.

"You already know that, Omniscient Lord," the Uconian replied. "Our discoveries are widespread, our researches are the most complete and our inventions the most proficient: we can discover a revolutionary theory from a detail and create wonderful things, starting from a grain."

Bill just looked at the Ucronian, who proudly held his gaze. Kryptos chewed his lip: they had met thousands of scholars in their centuries of travel from one Dimension to another. Everyone was proud of their work, everyone spoke of themselves with praise and confidence. But no one with the same firmness and arrogance as that Ucronian.

After a long stare, Bill loosened his arms. The Ucronian's back tensed, fear snaked through the inhabitants, waiting for the appearance of the blue, devouring flames.

Instead, Bill brought a hand on his wrist and untied the knot of the small black box he had brought from Roher.

The Ucronian's eyes were immediately drawn to the black box. Bill floated down, his arm stretched out, and the creature got to his feet, an already raised hand. They met halfway and Bill placed the small black box on his palm.

"Create something with this, then," Bill challenged him. "If it's really special, I'll let you live."

The other Ucronians got to their feet, the closest ones approached, intrigued. The elder scholar lowered his four eyes to the box and lifted the lid.

A white light came from the inside, so dazzling that many Ucronians were forced to look away. The old Ucronian turned the box upside down and what slipped out of it was a sphere of perfect white, dazzling like a star, which floated a couple of inches from his hand.

The creature blinked, his four narrowed eyes trying to get used to the white light. He lifted the small sphere in front of him, turned it from all sides, trying to penetrate beyond the dazzling light. He tried to touch the sphere, then pulled his finger back, before he could touch its surface. He looked up at Bill again.

"You want us to use this... thing?" He asked, perplexity evident in his tone of voice.

"You're the best scientists in the Multiverse, aren't you?" Bill raised a hand towards the sphere. "Show it. Unless you want to give up immediately." And withdrew his hand, his gesture accompanied by small, flickering blue flames.

The perplexed expression of the Ucronian left room for a firmer gaze and tight lips. He straightened his back and looked up at Bill, both hands cupped under the floating sphere.

"We'll create something unique," he promised. "We just need some time."

"One day."

"Three."

"Two." Bill raised two fingers. "Last offer."

"Two are enough," the Ucronian bowed. "Thank you, Omniscient Lord."

"I'm counting," Bill replied, sitting down in midair.

The Ucronian turned his back on Bill and, with the sphere still suspended in his hands, marched off through the crowd, speaking loudly.

"Go away and think! The best ones, with me at the Core!"

Obediently, the other Ucronians dispersed. Some grabbed sheets and pens, others pulled out earphones and ran away. A dozen, however, joined him and everyone began to murmur among themselves, exchanging ideas and talking in the earphones.

"What do we do now, boss?" Keyhole asked, looking up at Bill.

"Take a walk," he replied. "Just don't destroy anything and don't eat anyone. I'm talking to you, Teeth..."

"No problem, boss!"

"... and to you, Paci-fire."

"Mpfh."

"Go," he dismissed them, with a wave of his hand.

Pyronica seized the opportunity and, with 8-Ball on the right and Paci-fire on the left, she headed towards the town center. Hectorgon floated away on his own, while Keyhole grabbed Teeth and dragged him away from the buildings and their inhabitants before he managed to grab one of them.

Kryptos turned to Bill: he was still sitting in midair, his legs crossed, both hands resting on his knee. He looked straight on with a neutral expression, the whole shape relaxed.

"Can you tell me what you gave him?" Kryptos asked.

Bill kept looking straight on, as if he had not heard him. And then, slowly, his eye narrowed into a sly smile.

"A glow point," he replied.

The heat disappeared, time stood still. Kryptos was speechless, distant words crowding his mind.

"A glow point! It's worth hundreds of coins, if it's as big as he said!"

“Those beautiful things you buy, that you don't know where they come from, that are so rare, are embryos of Universes!"

"We know these points because now and then they appear in our world. We call them "glow points"."

Bill's smile came back to his mind, as he stroked the black box with its mysterious content.

"A token worth a Dimension."

"Wh... wha..." a sound came out of his throat and that sound awakened him from the trance. Kryptos moved his tongue and other sounds managed to come out.

"What?!" he finally exclaimed, too loudly. He pressed both hands to his mouth and came closer to Bill. "A glow point... a real glow point... where did you...? No, how did you...? No, wha... are you crazy?!" He finally managed to articulate. "Something so precious and you kept it in a box!"

"Where should I have kept it?" Bill replied, with the same placid tone and a hint of sarcasm.

"N... that's not the point!" Kryptos retorted, with a shrill tone. "You had such a thing and you gave it to these creatures...!"

"I had to use it for something, after all," Bill replied, with the same calm, innocent tone.

"And you use it like this?! You give it to mortals who don't even know what it is?! Will they at least understand what it is, now that they'll study it?"

"Oh no, they’ll never know," he replied, amused.

"What if they accidentally destroy it?" Kryptos grabbed his top. "What if it releases energy? What if it explodes? It could blow everything up!"

"It would only be their fault," Bill replied. "I gave them the most precious thing in the Multiverse, now it's up to them to bring out something exceptional. If they can create wonderful things starting from a grain, then they should create the impossible starting from something like this."

Kryptos waved his arms in frustration, as if trying to make words, but without success.

"Why this... why didn't you use it?" He finally managed to say. "You have incredible powers! Use it yourself. You can do something exceptional with it!"

Bill narrowed his eye and laughed: a short, amused laugh.

"It would've been too obvious," he replied, turning to Kryptos. "Everyone would've expected it! But now I don't know what's going to happen either."

"You know everything," Kryptos snorted. "You just have to see what they'll do."

Bill brought his gaze back to Kryptos, his eye half-closed in a smile.

"I know," he replied. "But I'd be a real spoilsport to ruin the fun, don't you think?"

After two days, the Ucronian came back to Bill. He was standing in front of him, followed by a squadron of scientists, as proud as he was.

"All-Seeing Eye," he greeted Bill, with a nod and a bow.

"Professor Las," Bill said.

The professor straightened up and lifted the black box Bill had given him.

"It wasn't an easy task," the Ucronian explained. "We had never worked with something like this, with such peculiar properties." A hint of tiredness darkened his expression. "We analyzed it day and night, we did all the experiments to grasp every characteristic of it and, perhaps, we haven't even reached the bottom of its true essence..." He cleared his throat. "Anyway: we had to stabilize it, enough to be able to touch it. We have channeled its brightness to attenuate it and carved the base sphere into a more usable form..."

"Cut the chase, professor." Bill raised a hand. "What did you make?"

Tension ran through the scholars, they exchanged glances between them. Professor Las brought a hand to the box, his fingers hesitating a second too far around its corners. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and finally lifted the lid.

Kryptos narrowed his eye, expecting the dazzling light to blind him. But no light came from the inside. The professor tipped the box over his hand and a small white sphere rolled over his palm.

The glow point.

It no longer floated like two days ago. It was not white either: it was bright blue, which faded into a pale purple towards the center. The surface was furrowed by what appeared to be a spider web of thin white lines. Even its outline was no longer the perfect one of a sphere, but small corners sprouted everywhere.

What did they do with it?

Bill leaned in and Kryptos also came over to look. Behind him, he heard the others peering, curious.

"What's this?"

"Wait... but is it a dice?"

"Really?"

"It's a dice!"

Kryptos felt as if he was being dragged toward the ground by two heavy boulders. A dice. Just a simple, damn dice. They had a whole Dimension in their hands and all they managed to make out of it was just a dice ?!

Bill alternated his gaze from the dice to the professor, blinking. He looked the Ucronian up and down.

"A die," he said dryly.

"Look closer." Professor Las handed him the dice. "It's not a simple die."

Bill looked at him once more, then held out his hand and lifted the dice between two fingers. Kryptos came closer, looking at the sphere from behind Bill's back.

The cobweb of white lines was not just a decoration: the lines met, closed, formed different and irregular squares. Inside each square, there was a symbol, a number, a shape, all different from each other. And the lines moved, the squares shifted, the symbols changed. From an inverted tree, the symbol in the center shifted into a star, then into a 5, then into a stylized constellation, then into the alchemical symbol of water. And again and again, the lines shifted and changed.

Kryptos held his breath. It was like when they saw a hypercube in three dimensions: its sides constantly shifted, rotating and moving in the limited space. There, in the space of a three-dimensional sphere, those multidimensional lines moved in the same way.

"It's an infinity-sided die," explained Professor Las. Despite the nervousness, a hint of pride was clear in his voice. "Each face has a different outcome, impossible to predict. When the die is rolled, anything can happen: we can all become giants, the world can turn upside down, cherries can rain from the sky, an eight can come out, a new star can be born. There's no impossible result."

Kryptos was amazed. Those creatures, those mortals had managed to use a Dimension, to create something impossible. An infinite die, with infinite results. How had they conveyed the power of an entire Dimension, into something like this?

Out of the corner of his eye, Kryptos caught the amazement on Hectorgon's lips and in Keyhole's gaze. Teeth let out a " wow ", Pyronica approached curiously, 8-Ball tilted his head to the side. Even Paci-fire looked up at the dice and peered at it with a less dark frown than usual.

Kryptos turned to Bill: he was still looking at the dice, his eye wide open as he turned it between his fingers and the infinite web of possibilities kept shifting before him.

Professor Las started to show some tension before that long, silent exam. He rubbed his hands.

"I... I realize that, for an omniscient being like you, an infinity-sided die will still have results that you can foresee," he quickly justified himself. "But keep in mind..."

Bill lowered the dice and words died on the professor's mouth. Bill's black pupil aimed at the Ucronian.

"Endless possibilities, you said."

The professor blinked.

"Yes... yes, sir."

Bill closed the die in his fist and raised it. His eye twisted into a smile.

"I want to try!"

A look of pure fear appeared on everyone's faces and froze Kryptos in midair. Pyronica looked at Bill with wide eyes, Hectorgon almost choked on his own saliva, Keyhole quickly shook his head and 8-Ball gaped.

"A... All-Seeing Eye!" the Ucronian raised his arms, trying to stop him. "Actually... um... the die wasn't meant to be "tried". Since we cannot know what happens once it's rolled and the result comes up, the idea was to... expose it. As a scientific result."

"But that would be so boring !" Bill replied. "Come on, just one tiny roll!"

"Um, Bill..." Kryptos intervened, touching his other arm. "Why don't you listen to the professor and lower your hand? This place is worth living, isn't it?"

"They showed they're good," Pyronica agreed. "And this die is a nice little thingy! Let's just put it back in its box so we won't break it, mh?"

"I won't break it, I'll just roll it once!"

"All-Seeing Eye, please." The professor tried again, in a conciliatory tone. "A roll could be enough to delete the Multiverse and all lifeforms!"

"Naaah, it'll be fine. I'm pretty lucky, you know." Bill waved the die in his fist. "Go, baby!"

Before the Ucronian could reach his raised arm, Bill rolled the dice.

The infinity-sided die flew over the professor's head, straight into the group of scholars. The Ucronians dispersed, leaving space free, terrified as if the dice were about to explode. Pyronica grabbed her hair, with a screech. 8-Ball and Paci-fire jumped forward, in a desperate attempt to grab the dice. The professor turned with a strangled cry, trying to stop the dice from falling.

The sphere hit the stone and rolled, slowing down more and more. The Ucronians kept retreating, screaming in fear as they followed the alternation of sides. Eight, infinity, apple, duck, it will kill us all, it will kill us all ...

The sphere stopped and, on the side on top, a figurine with four arms and two legs appeared. Then a dazzling white light burst out, taking the whole city, erasing any other color, so powerful that Kryptos had to protect his eye behind his arms...

And, as it exploded, the light went out. Kryptos lowered his arms and looked around: the other Ucronians were also lowering their arms, blinking with their four eyes to adapt to the light. Some turned around, looking at the sky and the buildings. Others touched their arms and bodies as if to make sure they were still alive. Pyronica let out a deep sigh of relief. Hectorgon floated to the ground and dropped onto his back.

"I was so close, " he said. "So close to dying of fear. If you had killed me, Bill, I would've come back just to kill you."

"I told you I wasn't going to kill anyone!" Bill said cheerfully, with his most popping tone. "I'm lucky!"

"What... what happened?" The professor, who had fallen to his knees, got back to his feet. He rubbed his head and looked around. "What changed?"

"You tell me, wise guy!" Bill laughed. Professor Las looked at him with wide eyes.

"You don't know?!"

Bill shrugged.

"Why are you all so obsessed with foreseeing things all the time? Don't you understand that it's boring ?"

Kryptos let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his eye.

"I swear," he spelled out, "On everything precious in this Multiverse, that if you don't stop..."

"Professor!"

That yell made Kryptos open his eye again. Everyone was facing the source of the noise, which turned out to be another Ucronian, who was running towards them.

"Perwin?"

The Ucronian reached Professor Las, panting while he lifted a rolled sheet.

"A message from Krismal: he wants to collaborate on the construction of bases on Gris27."

The professor’s gaze shifted from Perwin to the rolled-up paper. His four eyes narrowed in a puzzled expression.

"A message from who?"

Perwin blinked, confused.

"Krismal, Professor," he repeated. "The Lottians' leader."

Professor Las’ expression was more perplexed than before. Kryptos turned to look at Bill: he had the same astonished look.

"Who?"

"Lottians," Perwin repeated as if he were explaining something obvious to a child. "The Lottian race. From the nearby galaxy of Kermonte. We clashed on the Gris system, then we signed the armistice and now we're starting to collaborate, by building the bases together, then we'll divide them between our two races." Perwin raised an arm. "Professor, are you... are you sure you're alright?"

"Another race?" Professor Las shifted his gaze to the other scholars present, all of them as surprised as he was. "We've never found other races in the Kermonte galaxy. There's no other race in this universe except us."

The four eyes moved to Bill and Kryptos also turned to look at him. In the wide-eyed black pupil, a light of understanding shone through and that same light also triggered a switch in Kryptos' mind.

There were no other races. There was nothing in that Dimension except the Ucronians.

At least until Bill rolled the die.

"Life," Bill murmured. He looked down at his hand. "I rolled a new life."

"Uhm... professor?" Perwin asked, shyly.

Bill floated towards the die and picked it from the ground. For a terrible second, Kryptos feared that he wanted to roll it again. But he just raised it.

"Work with the Lottians," He declared. "They have the technologies to fly through space that you lack. Create your galactic bases together, multiply, and get to know each other."

All the scholars approached slowly, hypnotized by the light that Bill was expanding. Bill looked straight ahead, the dice raised above his top attracted all the eyes.

"Worship chance, which decided this outcome," he said. "It wasn't me who created life, but it was chance. Chance decided Lottians should be born, chance will decide everything else. The chance's decisions are always right."

He handed the die to Professor Las.

"Worship chance and bring this knowledge to Lottians," he said. "You'll become one of the most famous and long-lived races of the Multiverse."

Even the Professor looked at him with wide eyes, drinking every word like fresh water. He took the infinity-sided die from his hand and slowly put it back in the black box.

"Well, I think that's all," Bill resumed talking with a more blunt tone. "I'll let you bond. It looks like you've reached an armistice, so don't ruin everything now, by insulting each other during your first meeting." He snapped his fingers towards Perwin. "Professor Las and all the scholars here are a little confused, so what about a quick review of your relationships with the Lottians? Give them a hand with the treaties, too." He added, elbowing Perwin. "And may chance keep guiding you."

A snap of his fingers, a blink of an eye and the city square disappeared, giving way to a yellow planet, furrowed by wide blue bands. Kryptos turned and saw Bill floating beside him, his fingers still raised after the snap. His eye was bent into a smile.

Kryptos looked at Ucron 9 before them. The scenes kept looping in his mind: the dice rolling, the dazzling light, the Ucronian speaking about the appearance of a new race. Race that only they and the scholars in the city square did not know anything about. Maybe because they were present when Bill rolled the infinity-sided die?

He turned to Bill, with that and a hundred more questions on his lips. All crowded together, none managed to get out. Except for the shorter one.

"What now?"

Bill turned to him. His eye twisted into a wider smile. He stretched out his arm.

"Wanna see?"

He touched his forearm.

And…

Ucronians walking on the green surface of a planet, towards a giant tent. A long table with creatures sitting on both sides: at the head of the table, a being with four arms, swaying algae for hair and two eyes like glowing flames. A Ucronian passed a glass plate to another of those alga-haired beings, who took it with its four arms. Another one of those beings - a Lottian - wrapped a Ucronian in its arms, their mouths touching. A white room covered with feathers in which everyone danced. A child making his first steps, with four arms raised and four eyes wide open. Other beings with four arms and four eyes shaking hands. A huge board with the symbol of the infinity-sided die. Two pieces of paper, one with the name Lott and one with the name Ucron 9 were brought closer together. A being who spun playing cards. Ucron 9 fading out in the gray, while a mammoth ship was leaving it behind. A blindfolded female walking along a red carpet with a ring in her hand. A city of sparkling lights. Doors that opened onto rooms with golden walls, with red tables full of different creatures and boxes from which gold cherries and coins rained out.

The images disappeared, the lights went out. Kryptos blinked: in front of him there was only the black of the universe and Bill's yellow, who looked at him with that amused smile.

He looked down at his arm: Bill had withdrawn his hand. There was no mark on his black skin. He blinked, rubbed his eye and looked up at Bill again.

"What happened?"

"It hasn't happened yet," Bill corrected him, laughing. "But it will happen, in the next billions of years." He turned to Ucron 9 which was still yellow and blue, not extinguished in the gray of a distant death. "It will be centuries before this Dimension reaches that point."

Bill raised his arm again, his fingers moved closer.

"In the meantime, there's more to see."

And, with a snap, they jumped again through Dimensions.

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 24

Centuries passed, after leaving Ucron 9. Dimensions were born and died, while they kept moving. Many worlds repeated, boring, just the same as millions of others seen centuries before.

Yet every time Kryptos looked at Bill, he caught the same hunger in his eye he had the first day. There was still an insatiable need inside him, a desire to know and see that pushed him to seek, discover, explore. He kept jumping from one universe to another, tireless, animated by an increasingly obsessive need. He spoke with all the people he met, even those who opposed him, in an attempt to find something he had not already seen. He searched on all planets, on all stars, in every creature. But it was still not enough for him to be satisfied.

And Kryptos feared that even the Multiverse, one day, would no longer be enough for him.

"I don't know," Kryptos said, shrugging. "Maybe I'm just paranoid. But it has been a long time since we've stopped in a Dimension for more than three days."

"I've been stuck in the same place for years," was 8-Ball's bitter comment. "And it sucked."

"But it was a prison, it's different."

8-Ball shrugged.

"I don't mind moving," he insisted. "We see a lot of interesting stuff."

"We always move, it doesn't seem so different to me," Teeth agreed. "It would be nice, though, if there were more people to eat."

"Bill needs to vent some energy." Hectorgon raised a corner of his mouth in a playful smile. "He's like a child: he has to play until he's out of breath, so he calms down for a couple of hours after." He patted Kryptos's arm. "Don't worry too much: if he had a problem, he would remind us every minute."

The others chuckled and, little by little, they went down the slope on which they had climbed and returned to the oasis. Only Pyronica remained with Kryptos and, once alone, she sat down beside him.

"You're right."

Kryptos turned to her, surprised by that quiet confirmation. Pyronica looked down at the red and blue oasis below them.

"Do you think so?"

"I didn't want to worry the others," she explained. "But we're moving much faster than usual."

Kryptos sat up straight.

"So it wasn't just my impression."

"No, I noticed it too." Pyronica frowned. "We crossed a couple of interesting Dimensions, but Bill wanted to leave immediately."

Faster visits and faster jumps. Something rang out in Kryptos' memory. A memory hesitated in his mind, too cloudy to be framed.

"Usually he stops when he finds interesting worlds," Pyronica continued. "But not recently."

Many jumps. Many more than usual. An eye that always looked beyond the current Dimension, searching through the Multiverse.

"Here…"

Something snapped in his mind, the memory took a clear shape. Bill doing the double jump, his eye fixed, his fingers raised.

The meeting with Keyhole.

Kryptos looked at Pyronica.

"Do you think someone..." his voice was hoarse. "Someone is pulling him?"

Centuries had passed since Bill had tended towards the interdimensional prison. Centuries since 8-Ball and Paci-fire had joined them. Since then, Bill had never felt that sensation, that magnet that called him across Dimensions. If he had never felt attracted, then it meant that there was no one else. That their group was full.

But now something was pulling him again.

Kryptos swallowed. A new member of the group. It sounded so strange, even in his mind. After millennia he had gotten used to the eight of them. Who could it be, the next creature to join them? Many had asked Bill to join the group, but he had rejected all of them. Who would have been strange and interesting enough, to make Bill offer that position?

"I don't think so," Pyronica said, dispersing his ideas.

"Why?" Kryptos asked.

"Because he's much more irritated than the other time," she retorted. "When he was pulled, he was more focused on getting to the right place. Now, however, he is more frustrated. As if something annoys him."

Kryptos lowered his eye.

"You noticed it too."

"Of course I noticed."

"Did you ask him anything?"

"No." Pyronica shrugged. "When he wants, he'll tell us what's happening."

"What if he doesn't want to tell us?"

"We're his friends," she replied, with a smile. "He'll tell us."

And, without adding anything else, she got to her feet and went down the slope to reach the others.

It wasn't working.

He felt the call attracting him through Dimensions, pulling him from the center of his shape with the same, frustrating intensity. He was close, he was always close, still a jump away. So Bill kept jumping, moving into the Sixth Dimension, going from one dimensional line to another. He kept moving in the same direction, looking for the right thread in the intricate web of five-dimensional streets, the one that would overlap the call that attracted him.

Yet, no matter how many jumps, he could not reach it.

Four attempts were enough to find Keyhole and Teeth: on each Dimension, he felt himself tending towards a little more, then, in the second last jump, the force had aimed straight at Kirhlm, where he had found them.

But now the pull remained the same, with each jump. It did not decrease, nor did it increase. It gave him no indication of where to go. It did not pull him toward a particular Dimension. It was as if Bill was in the right place, but what he was looking for was on the other side of a wall: it was there, he just could not reach it.

Where are you?

His other companions had been found quickly. But this one kept running away from him. It was still calling him, so it was still alive. But its life could be in danger like Pyronica’s was. It could be executed, chased, or killed at any moment. And Bill did not tend toward other timelines, so it must have been the only one where it was still alive.

Bill had only one chance: one second was enough and Bill would lose his moment in time.

The injustice of that partial power filled his shape with red anger. If he could have moved through the Fourth Dimension too, time would not have been a problem: if it had died, Bill could have reached it anyway, gone back to when it was alive and made his offer.

He put a hand on his shape. At the center, always present, he felt the familiar pull. It was still calling him.

But why couldn't he reach it?

Another jump, another wrong dimensional line.

It was still calling him: I'm here, I'm close, I'm there.

But it was not there and Bill had already traveled dozens of dimensional lines. It was still a mortal, so its life would end, sooner or later! What if it ended before Bill arrived?

Bill raised his fingers and snapped them again.

Frustration and panic alternated in his shape, with each wrong jump. The pull was still constant as if he were always at the same distance.

It was not possible, he could not always be in the same place! Bill did nothing but move along different five-dimensional lines: how did he always stay at the same distance?!

But the pull was constant, identical to the first day Bill felt it, the ever-present call, a hold to the center of his shape that pulled him, he kept pulling him: I'm here, I'm close.

WHERE are you?

Something was wrong. He was looking at that situation in the wrong way.

Don't limit yourself.

He had not set limits.

Extend your gaze.

Go deeper.

Bill exhaled and his eye came back to the present, to the wrong universe in which he had arrived. His companions were looking around, someone sat on the asteroid on which they had arrived.

"I need a moment," he said to his friends. He left the group and sat on the sidelines, alone, in the center of a depression.

Going deeper. Bill closed his eye and listened to the advice of omniscience. As soon as his eyelids lowered on the pupil, the black ocean of his powers reappeared, that immense space of which he had now explored most of it.

With a deep breath, Bill immersed himself in the deep blue, wet and spicy, recognizing the area of dimensional jumps. By now he could explore it with his eye closed, every detail of that power imprinted up to his fingertips. The Third Dimension's beauty welcomed him wherever he went, the untouchable Dimension of Time, the five-dimensional roads linked in the huge spider web that made the Sixth Dimension: everything was within reach of his hand, a jump away, a blink of an eye.

Bill went deeper and recognized the familiar currents of the dream: the simple layer of the Dreamscape, the delightful complexity of the Mindscape he was learning about.

He kept descending into the black of the abyss: his power tingled in the muscles and nerves, along the arms, up to the fingertips. The bottom had to be close by now, in the dense black that surrounded him. Around him, the nuanced memory of a blue-haired woman, who traced lines on a sheet of paper, while her words repeated themselves in the water in a continuous echo.

"First Dimension."

"Second Dimension."

"Third Dimension."

He looked down, expecting to see the bottom of the ocean, while Leban's words accompanied him in his descent.

"Now, imagine you are in a Universe that is born as a result of a huge explosion: this Universe will also die with an explosion. But let’s imagine you want to see a different end: you want to see this Universe die slowly. But you won’t find this kind of death in the Dimension you are in. The Universe that dies slowly exists in the Fifth Dimension. And, if you want to reach it, you should jump through the upper Dimension: the Sixth.”

Power was no longer just a tingling: it had become a thick veil covering him, pressing against his arms, legs, feet, palms, against each finger, as the water pressure increased.

"Seventh Dimension. It includes all the possible deaths of the Universe."

"But now we’ve reached the end. What's beyond that?"

The light didn't come down there. There was only the memory of Leban and her pen tapping on the paper.

"This point includes all the possible deaths of the Universe that is born as a result of an explosion. While this point, in the Seventh Dimension, includes..."

"All the possible deaths of a Universe that’s born in a completely different way!" 

A different infinity.

"And these both exist in the Eighth Dimension..."

"And, if I wanted to jump from one Universe to the other, I’d have to move along the Ninth Dimension! And then the Tenth Dimension includes everything: all the ramifications, of all the timelines, of all possible Universes!"

And Bill reached the bottom of the ocean.

His hands hurt, because of how tightly he twisted them. Kryptos loosened his fingers and brought them behind his back, trying to stay still. For the umpteenth time in ten minutes, he turned to look at Bill: he was still sitting on the side, still cross-legged, his eye still closed.

I'm getting paranoid.

He looked away and focused on the others, who chatted and laughed, pointing to the stars of the colorful constellations. He should have joined them, laughed and let Bill do what he was doing, whatever it was.

Instead, he was still standing halfway, now turning towards him, now towards the others, like a wind vane.

Bill said he needed a couple of minutes alone. He was not doing anything strange, he was not fighting anyone. Maybe he had really entered the dream world, as Keyhole had suggested. Yet it did not seem like that to Kryptos. Also, why would he have to do it, just right now?

He turned again to look at him. It would have been different if Kryptos had been the only one to think that the dimensional jumps were faster than usual and Bill was increasingly frustrated. But Pyronica confirmed his theories and that worried him much, much more. What was Bill doing? And why hadn't he talked to them about it yet?

He should have been more trustful, like Pyronica. Bill knew what he was doing. Kryptos turned to the others, forcing himself to not turn around again because, seriously, it's getting ridiculous... when a laugh came from behind him.

Kryptos turned around. Bill was laughing, but that was not one of his usual laughs. It was shrill and irregular, with high tones that alternated with other cavernous ones, sometimes overlapping, as if they were two radios tuned to two different frequencies. It was a laugh that hurt his mind, a screech of metal against metal, it was the sharp cry of the planets in space. Bill raised his arms above his top and even his arms seemed to glitch, to release electrical discharges, to move on different frequencies, as if Bill himself was a frequency.

"A DIFFERENT INFINITY! TEN DIMENSIONS!"

His voice was a third tone, completely different from his laughter, a shrill scream that echoed in the silence of space and opened cracks in the asteroid under their feet.

Someone grabbed his arm and, out of the corner of his eye, Kryptos recognized Hectorgon's soaring red. His mouth was parted, his lips trembling. In all the millennia they knew each other, he had never seen him frightened by Bill.

Pyronica joined him on the right and touched his other arm. Her flames burned, high and bright. Her eye was serious, predatory.

"What happened?" she asked dryly.

"I... I don't know." Kryptos took a shy step forward, towards Bill who was still laughing and repeating the same meaningless words.

"TEN DIMENSIONS! I SEE IN TEN DIMENSIONS!"

His companions' hands slipped away from him and, one step at a time, Kryptos reached Bill. As soon as he got to his side, he opened his mouth, unsure of what to ask. But Bill was faster and turned to him.

Kryptos stepped back. He had already seen his deep stare, the look in his eye when he was searching for something through Dimensions, his pupil black as the universe's supervoids. But that gaze, that black was different from all others. It was the bottom of an abyss, an abyss in which strings of something flowed, black on black, invisible to the eye but perceptible to the other senses.

And the abyss was watching him.

"THAT'S WHY I DIDN'T FIND IT!" Bill roared, with a voice that was screeching and thundering. "THAT'S WHY I COULDN'T REACH IT!"

"W... what do you mean?" He asked in a trembling voice.

"DIMENSIONS ARE TEN, NOT SIX!" He answered, between laughter. "I DON'T HAVE A HEXADIMENSIONAL VISION, BUT A DECADIMENSIONAL!"

"D... deca...?"

Bill's insane laugh, made the whole asteroid tremble. Pyronica and 8-Ball had to get on all fours to not be thrown off, Keyhole threw himself on the ground and Paci-fire clung to a protruding rock. Kryptos also rocked unstably and fell to his knees.

"WE'VE ALWAYS BEEN IN A CLUSTER!" Bill said, in a thunderous voice. "WE'VE ALWAYS JUMPED IN THE SAME AREA! IT WASN'T LIMITED! I WATCHED JUST UNTIL THE SIXTH! AND IT WAS CALLING ME FROM A DIFFERENT GROUP!"

"I... it?"

"THE EIGHTH." His voice echoed in space. "THAT'S WHY I COULDN'T REACH IT HERE! THE CONDITIONS FOR ITS EXISTENCE WERE POSSIBLE, ONLY IN A UNIVERSE BORN IN A DIFFERENT WAY!"

Bill got to his feet, still laughing like a maniac, and the rock under his feet broke: cracks ran along the surface of the asteroid, fragments of stone broke away and floated into space. Teeth screamed when the ground opened below him and he had to jump to get out of the way.

Bill was overflowing with power. His surface was more and more dazzling, more and more golden, it vibrated with so much energy that Kryptos felt the waves crash against him, making his own shape tremble. He tried to raise a hand and touch Bill, but he laughed, laughed, without looking at anyone, laughed and kept talking.

"IT WAS PULLING ME AND IT'S STILL PULLING ME!" He shouted, words that were screams of victory. "HE IS STILL ALIVE! THE EIGHTH IS NEAR!"

"THE EIGHTH IS NEAR!"

"I'VE WATCHED JUST UNTIL THE SIXTH!"

"Bill..."

"WE'VE ALWAYS BEEN IN A CLUSTER!"

"DIMENSIONS ARE TEN, NOT SIX!"

A primal fear pushed him to move closer, to reach Bill. He would have done something, something dangerous. The pieces came together - Ten Dimensions, a cluster, the eighth member of their group - under the veil of fear that pushed him to move, to do something before it was too late and Bill...

Will he kill us?

Will he kill himself?

What do you want to do?

Kryptos held out a hand and Bill raised his own. He put his fingers together, held them out for the snap.

"Bill!"

And Bill snapped.

It was not a normal jump through the Sixth Dimension. It was like being thrown through a narrow tube, at crazy speed. Kryptos was unable to scream, nor to open his eye: the only thing he could do was to cling to something that was in front of him and never let go, because if he did the current would change direction and crush him against a wall, making him collapse along his length, like an empty box.

The wind stopped, and gravity threw him to the ground. Dust stung his eye, sand filled his mouth, bringing fresh air.

I'm alive?

And the others? What about Bill?

Where are we?

Kryptos opened his eye. Beside him, he saw Hectorgon propping himself up on his arms. Behind him, he heard Teeth moan weakly and someone else vomit. Kryptos raised himself on his arms, spitting sand and he saw Bill standing in front of him. His back was turned on Kryptos', his front was facing a wall of sand the wind had raised in front of them.

What's going on? Where are we? What's this?

The wind lowered, sand started to fall. And, from behind the veil of sand, Kryptos saw...

A Line?

A floating figure, who turned around.

An eye of the Second Dimension, with a thin pupil and curved eyelashes, inside a purple rhombus. Other squares emerged from behind the sand, different colors united to form the shape of an irregular Line. A second eye, higher up, wide open like the first. A black ribbon rising from the edge of the Line.

The black ribbon cut through the veil of sand that separated them and pierced Bill's arm, nailing him to the ground.

"Bill!"

Fear deleted everything else and Kryptos crawled over to Bill, his limbs trembling with shock. The black ribbon of the Line ended with a blue rhombus, a blood-stained diamond of the same color. Bill stared at his arm, dazed, as if it didn't belong to him.

The black ribbon retracted, its lethal tip coming out of the flesh, carrying a fan of blue drops. Bill's eye was still focused on the arm, hypnotized by the hole that had been left by that attack, by the torn flesh, by the blue blood that dripped down to his fingers.

Before one of them could do or say anything, Bill's flesh moved on its own. Bones rejoined, tendons knotted again, blood came back into the body, layers of tissue covered the hole left by the attack, skin returned smooth and perfect. Kryptos stared at it with his mouth open and blinked several times, expecting the image to change at any moment and the wound to appear again: but Bill's arm was still intact as if that lethal vine had never struck him.

In the astonished silence, Bill burst into laughter: it was not the same shrill laughter as before, but a crazy, hysterical sound, the laughter of an intoxicated madman. He rose high, higher than the Line.

"DO IT AGAIN!" he invited her. "HIT ME AGAIN!"

The Line focused her five eyes on him, five pupils ready to attack. She did not have one vine, but two, and they both shot toward Bill.

The two blue tips pierced his arms at the same time and the black vines tensed, trying to knock Bill to the ground: they vibrated with the effort to tug him down, but Bill remained in midair. The pupils of the Line widened, her eyes filled with amazement as she lifted them towards Bill, again.

He laughed, drunk with satisfaction, raising his pierced arms as if nothing had happened.

"IT'S SO HILARIOUS!"

The Line withdrew her appendages and slammed the blue spikes on the ground, raising sand to hide her irregular shape. Bill laughed and, with a wave of his hand, dispelled the sand. Its shape grew bigger and bigger, until it towered over that of the Line.

"DO IT AGAIN!" he ordered her.

The Line backed away. Bill reached out to her and the lianas pierced his palm: as soon as the two diamond tips retracted, bones and tendons and muscles and skin twisted, closing the wound.

Bill burst into another laughter, which echoed in that unknown space with such energy, to disperse the sand that surrounded them.

"NOTHING AND NOBODY CAN HURT ME!"

The Line trembled, the black vines raised again to protect her. Even the colored pieces of her shape seemed to vibrate.

She tried another attack, this time towards the center of Bill's shape: the vines stopped an inch from his surface, the blue diamond-shaped tip shaking for the physical effort, a vain attempt to overcome the invisible barrier. The Line tried again and again, banging the lianas against the barrier with ever-increasing panic, without being able to touch the gigantic shape that towered over her. She aimed at Bill's legs, trying to hit him: a new barrier stopped her. Vibrating with anger and panic, the vines shot towards the eye, to collide unsuccessfully against the invisible wall.

Bill was still laughing, hysterical, his voice reduced to an exalted screech. He became even larger, a triangular star that emitted golden light, with an eye like a black hole, and leaned towards the small Line that looked back at him, fear and admiration alternating in the five wide-open eyes.

"JOIN US," Bill said to her. "AND YOU'LL SEE EVERYTHING BEYOND THIS SMALL WORLD."

Dwarfed by that dazzling light, the Line lowered her vines.

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 25

Water did not exist in that Dimension. There were no trees either. But there was wind and if you left your mouth open wide for enough time, you could feed yourself.

"It sucks as food, though," Teeth commented, gritting his teeth. "Is there nothing to chew? I miss something solid."

"Eat the sand," Keyhole replied.

"It gets stuck, it's annoying," he replied. He tapped his foot on the ground. "Can I eat a piece of dirt?"

"I have never seen a creature eat the dirt."

Kryptos was still stunned, whenever she spoke. Second-dimensional Lines had a high-pitched, trilling voice, their words were like small cries that pierced the shape. And all of them were happy, their giggles even sharper than their tones. The voice of that Line, however, was heavy and echoing, as if it came from within her irregular shape.

"How do you eat?" Pyronica asked.

The Line lifted her vines. Thin filaments were floating near the ends.

"I can pick up nutrients with these," she explained. "And I smell the presence of other beings."

"Did you smell us even when we arrived?"

"It was... sudden. And unexpected," she replied, calibrating her words. "I had cleaned up the place. It was empty and I knew it. And suddenly I found myself surrounded by creatures that were too close."

"Well, you don't go unnoticed with those colors," 8-Ball said.

"They are a form of warning." Her tone was serious. "They can be seen from afar, so the enemies already know where I am and how dangerous I am: they have been warned." She lifted her vines again. "If they come closer, then they will have to deal with these. "

Kryptos blinked: it was still vivid in his mind how those lianas had pierced Bill's flesh, the blood dripping from the wound, how the bones came back together, the muscles wrapped and the skin closed. Even Bill's laughter still echoed in him.

"And you always attack first?" 8-Ball continued.

"The first rule of a good defense is a strong offense," she replied, letting the lianas fall. "He was too close. I acted instinctively." Her eyes narrowed, in a semblance of a smile. "And the same instinct suggested to me that it was useless to keep fighting with a superior creature, capable of regenerating himself like that."

"It was incredible, wasn't it?" Teeth commented.

"Unexpected," she repeated. "There are no creatures with such powers here. Your Dimension must be much stronger and bigger than this."

"Dimensions have nothing to do with that. We've seen many of them, but the boss is the boss. There are no others like him: he's unique."

"He certainly is," she agreed. "I have never met someone like him. Is he the embodiment of a star?"

"No, his ego is much bigger," Hectorgon replied, laughing. "And if you ask him, he'll confirm it too."

"He also has an incredible knowledge of everything," Keyhole added. "He knows everything about everyone. And his powers are fantastic! If you think regeneration is cool, you should see it when he burns Dimensions. We've seen it billions of times, but it's always a sight."

"Hey, guys!"

Everyone turned around: Bill was back. He floated happily, waving his arms like a kid, as he approached.

"So?" Pyronica asked. She looked around. "Where's Paci-fire?"

"I promised you an oasis, I found an oasis." Bill raised his hands in front of him, looking at them with a magnanimous expression. "I know, I'm too generous. Go easy on the compliments."

"Is there any water?" Pyronica jumped up and clapped her hands, enthusiastic. "Where did you find it?"

"I haven't," he replied. "I created it. Paci-fire's there, he's enjoying it."

Pyronica gave him a pat on the side.

"Awww, you are the best!"

"I'm always the best, my dear."

She answered with a laugh and they walked away, poking each other like kids. Everyone else followed them.

"I still don't know what this " water " is," said the Line, waving her lianas. "But I'm curious to see it."

"You'll like it!" Pyronica exclaimed, turning around. "It's transparent, but Bill can give it any color you want. And you can float on it, or sink in it and move and... here it is!"

The oasis that Bill had created was a perfect reproduction of the oases they had seen on Jacquan. Just with many more trees coming out of the water and an intensely blue lake, the same color as Bill's devouring flames.

Pyronica ran to jump into the water, followed by Teeth and Keyhole. The Line approached slower, floating carefully, until she stopped on the edge of the lake. She bent over, saw her reflection in the water and backed away, taken by surprise.

"It's still you, don't worry," Kryptos reassured her. He approached the shore of the lake and touched the surface, creating small waves. "It's a water effect, it reflects everything."

The Line approached again: she touched the water with one of her lianas and lifted it in front of her, looking at the droplets running along her extremity.

"It feels strange." She dipped the tip back into the water and moved it back and forth. "But it's not unpleasant."

Kryptos replied with a polite smile, then dipped his feet in the water and swung them. He felt the Line's gaze on him.

"You're the silent one, then."

"Huh?" Kryptos turned to her. "What?"

The Line pulled the lianas out of the water and immersed them again, looking at the waves they draw on the water's surface.

"Teeth is the talker," she said. "Keyhole is the one with the good information. Pyronica is the one that welcomes you immediately. Hectorgon is the adult. 8-Ball the one who looks dangerous, but is actually harmless. Paci-fire is the one that looks dangerous and it is. Bill, on the other hand, is the one who seems harmless, but is the most dangerous of them all." She looked at Kryptos. "While you are the one who knows everything, but doesn't say anything."

Kryptos looked away, embarrassed.

"I don't know anything, actually," he said. "Bill is the one who knows everything."

"He knows everything, he has exceptional powers, he jumps between Dimensions," she summarized. "He's impressive."

"He is."

"Is this why you follow him?"

Kryptos looked at the water, watched the waves spread out. The enthusiastic screams of the others reached them, accompanied by the splash of water.

"No," he replied, shrugging. "It's because of his personality. His charisma. He gave us a lot, more than we would've ever had, by living normal lives." He smiled. "We've seen many different worlds, explored unknown dimensions, talked to creatures we've never seen before." He looked at her. "And we went further than we could've imagined."

She stared at him, five pairs of eyes probing his gaze. Eyes identical to those of a dead world, eyes that reminded him of another eye.

Something stirred up in the center of his shape. He remembered an eye similar to those, with long arched eyelashes and a spark of happiness always present in the black pupil. He remembered how the eyelids lowered and raised, how the pupil widened every time she saw him, how the eye narrowed when small hands stretched towards her.

A wonderful woman in a stagnant world, a white light in a flat, gray world.

"You come from far away," said the Line in front of him, an alien Line from an unknown world. "Farther than all of them."

Kryptos looked down. He heard the distant echo of laughter, that Woman's laughter. His Woman.

"Have you ever heard of the Second Dimension?"

"No," the Line admitted. "Is that where you come from?"

"Yes."

The Line lifted the lianas from the water, throwing a fan of droplets in front of her.

"Does he come from there too?"

It was pretty obvious who she was talking about.

"Yes," Kryptos confirmed.

"But you and he are different," she said. "You don't have his powers"

"No." He shrugged. "I don't have them."

"Is it because he's a Triangle?"

"No one has his powers," he replied, looking up at her again. "In any Dimension."

"So why does he have them?"

Kryptos smiled bitterly.

"Can you believe it, if I tell you we don't know?" He replied. "We've known each other for millennia and we still don't know."

A distant memory, a night lit by three-dimensional flames that consumed a two-dimensional world. A black and yellow shape, a silhouette in front of the fire.

"I told you I’d find a solution to the problem."

"He'll tell you, sooner or later," the Line said, bringing him back to the present. "You're his best friend."

"What?" Kryptos laughed, embarrassed. "You're wrong, I'm not his best friend. We're all the same, for Bill."

"Heeeey!"

The Line wanted to reply something, but blinked and looked away, distracted by that yell. Pyronica had called her, waving an arm in their direction.

"Are you looking for me?" The Line asked.

"I wanted to invite you to come into the water." Pyronica swam up to them. The flames on her arms were hidden and her figure was much darker, immersed in the clear blue water. "But I realized I don't know your name yet! I can't call you "hey" all the time! What's your name?"

The Line blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"What's your name?" Pyronica repeated. "Don't you have a name?"

"What's a name?"

"Oh, in this Dimension they don't have the concept of name," Bill said, approaching them. He lowered himself, until he sat on Pyronica's head, his back against one of her horns. "The name is a personal word, unique for each creature, that makes you recognizable by others: for example, she's known as "Pyronica", while I'm known as "Bill"."

"An interesting concept." The Line let her vines sway in the water. "And what "name" should I have?"

"Pyronica The Second!" Pyronica exclaimed.

Bill reached out to the Line.

"Amorphus Shape," he said. "Would you like to be known like this?"

The Line thought about it, her lianas swayed lazily in the water. Slowly, she pulled one out and placed the tip on Bill's palm.

"I would like that."

"Do you enjoy our company?"

Amorphus Shape gave him a glance, without moving from her position. The fire Bill lit hours ago had now gone out and only the embers remained, a blue and green duet on a black base.

Bill sat down next to her and leaned his back against the rocky hill. Above them, the stars were changing color again, as the constellations moved. Amorphus Shape followed their movement, her five eyes captured by that new and different show. It was the reason why she wanted to stay awake a little more.

"I've never had company," she replied, in that deep voice. "And I don't know if I fully grasped the concept of " friend ". But you're all funny and I like to listen to you when you speak."

"Did the others tell you interesting things?"

"You already know that, don't you?" She replied, with a hint of a smile in her voice. "You know everything."

"True," he admitted. "But I don't like to anticipate things."

In the gray silence, only Hectorgon's muttering breath and Teeth's whistle could be heard. Amorphus Shape lifted a liana in front of her, waving its blue end.

"Do you know that they're black in another Dimension?" Bill said, pointing to the diamond-shaped tip. "And that your colors are different? There's even a Dimension in which you have a mouth."

"I thought I was unique in the Multiverse."

"You are," he replied. "I'm talking about Dimensions that are infinitely far from here, far beyond this local group."

Even further.

Bubbles rose from the abyss of his powers.

"Am I lucky to have been chosen?"

Bill blinked and the abyss gave way to the sky covered with lights.

"It wasn't just luck!" He said cheerfully. "You were calling me. I was tending towards you. I just had to figure out how to reach you."

"So, if you reached my Dimension without me "calling" you, would you have killed me?"

"Mmmmh..." Bill rubbed under his eye. "I don't think so. I think I wish I'd known you better. You're interesting."

She made a small, low chuckle.

"What's so interesting about me?"

"You're weird!" He exclaimed. "You're different from all others! And your colors are a special orchestra." He raised his hands in front of him. "Piano as the base, on which violin and flute played together and, in the background, the tolling of the bell and the blows from the horn." He waved a hand. "And yes, of course your lianas are amazing and you're lethal, but it's secondary."

Amorphus Shape's eyes were all folded in the same, perplexed expression.

"My colors do what?"

"It's my ability," he explained. "When I see a color, I also hear a sound associated with it, a flavor, a texture and a smell. It's called synaesthesia."

"Is this another power?"

"It's just the way my senses react."

She laughed again.

"Even your senses are strange."

"Thank you."

They chuckled together, until silence fell again.

"If you'd tried to attack me, I would've defended myself." Her voice was deep and serious again. She turned the vine so that the point was directed towards Bill. "I would've tried to gouge your eye out."

"You could've never done that."

"I would've tried anyway."

"And once you realized you had no chance?"

The vine fell back.

"When you're facing an enemy stronger than you, you can always run away," she said. "But when you're facing someone whose power level you cannot even measure, the only thing you can do is give up."

Bill folded his eye into a smile.

"Is this why you agreed to join us?"

"It's because you gave me a choice," she replied. "I chose and now I'm here, talking to the most star-like creature I've ever met."

"In a Dimension you've never visited," Bill added.

"To see constellations that I'd never seen," she agreed. "It's quite a change."

"You should thank me."

"For not killing me?"

"That too."

Amorphus Shape let out a chuckle.

"You're exactly as others described you."

Bill raised his eyebrow.

"Is this a compliment?"

"It's a statement," she replied. She stood up. "It'll be interesting to know you better, Bill Cipher."

"So that's how a Dimension dies."

Bill's blue flames were twisting around the rings of a red planet. Kryptos glanced at Amorphus Shape: her five eyes were wide open, captured by that hypnotic sight.

"Yeah," he commented. "It's a show every time."

"Although this Dimension wasn't so bad," Hectorgon commented, on the other side of the Line. "Maybe it rained a little too many gummy bears, but that's all."

"We've seen too many like this one before," Bill said, resting his arms on the top of Hectorgon. "This is just a useless copy."

Amorphus Shape turned to him.

"Don't you consume energy, by using so much power?"

Bill laughed and patted her on the side.

"I am energy," he said. "I can use as much as I want." He interlaced his fingers over Hectorgon's bowler hat. "You know, in some Dimensions, there is the concept of "God": a God can destroy a universe or create it and its power is much bigger, compared to that of a single star."

"So you are this "God"?" asked Amorphus Shape.

"Many have called me like this," Bill replied, clearly satisfied. "It's more accurate, rather than considering me someone with the power of just a star."

Amorphus Shape gave a short chuckle and her eyes narrowed, amused.

"Just a star?"

"Sure." Bill pointed in front of them. "Look how easily I destroy them!"

"We know you're powerful," Hectorgon intruded, his lips raised in a sneer. "You don't need to show off."

"But Amorphus Shape hasn't seen anything yet!"

"I know," she said, "but I've seen enough to understand your personality."

"And what do you think?" Bill turned to her, with a twirl. "I'm a funny guy, am I?"

"I would say more... dazzling," she replied, "In more ways than one."

Hectorgon raised his arms.

"Finally a real adult!"

Amorphus Shape let out a timid giggle.

"I don't think so," she replied, shaking a vine. "I'm just a child, compared to you."

"Believe me, you're not."

"You're young, but you have plenty of time to learn!" Bill jumped in. "It'll be fun! You'll learn a lot of things, then I'll show you how fantastic I am and I'll tell you about everything I've done..."

"When he starts talking about himself, you can go away," Hectorgon suggested, rising in the air. "He usually realizes it after a couple of hours, so you have plenty of time to do other things."

Bill stuck his tongue out and sank next to Kryptos. Hectorgon grinned and headed for the others. Amorphus Shape followed him, waving her vines with curiosity.

"She immediately got along with everyone," Bill said cheerfully. "Even Paci-fire spoke to her, without his usual spiel about slaughtering people on countless moons. Do you remember when he kept saying it over and over?" He rolled his eye, with a smile.

"It was quite boring," Kryptos agreed, hiding a smile behind his hand. "He's much better now."

Bill's flames had devoured the rings and were enveloping the planet, transforming it into an incandescent ball, a small blue dwarf that consumed itself.

"Where are we going now?" Kryptos asked. "Do you already have ideas?"

Happiness faded from Bill's expression. His eye became serious, focused.

"I've been limiting myself for all this time," he said, "When I could've seen much more."

"What do you mean?"

"I was limiting myself." Bill raised a hand. "I don't have a five-dimensional sight. I don't just see every possible decision and its consequences." His eye widened. "I see all the decisions born in every possible way and I can see the consequences of each of those choices."

He moved his hand in a semicircle, as if to include the whole Dimension.

"Think of this galaxy as everything we've seen so far," he told him. "The planets of this galaxy are the places we visited, jumping through the Sixth Dimension."

Bill held out his hand in front of him.

"Beyond this galaxy, there are other galaxies. They are farther away and they have other planets, different from the ones here. Those are other Dimensions, born from totally different conditions than those from which we started. They are worlds of the Eighth Dimension, which can be visited only by jumping through the higher Dimension." He looked up. "And the entire universe, the space that includes all of this, is the Tenth Dimension."

He lowered his hand.

"I limited myself into seeing in six Dimensions." He turned to Kryptos. "But I can see in ten. I can see all the universes, born for all conditions, and follow all the temporal ramifications of each of them."

Bill's eye was an unsustainable abyss to look at, which crushed him with the weight of knowledge. Kryptos looked away and brought a hand over his own eye, trying to grasp the size of something this big.

"So what we've seen so far wasn't the whole Multiverse."

A shrill laugh.

"We've seen nothing of the Multiverse."

In the dizziness of such immensity - it took us millennia and we saw only a microscopic part of the whole Multiverse?! - Kryptos felt a lot lighter than before.

"A... at least it's positive, isn't it?" He looked at Bill again, with a trembling smile on his lips. "There's still a lot to see! Even if we find Dimensions similar to others we already saw, we still have millions of billions... no, trillions, infinite trillions to explore!" The smile widened. "Isn't that great?"

Bill blinked, gave him a quick smile and looked away.

"Yes."

Kryptos' smile slipped away, concern blossomed at the center of that relief that filled him. Bill Cipher was an excellent merchant and a skilled merchant did not need to lie. Ergo, he was not as good as a liar.

"What's wrong?" Kryptos asked him. "Aren't you happy? There are still tons of Dimensions you can explore. That doesn't mean they have to be exact copies of the one we already saw! We've explored just four Dimensions in this area so far and not only two were completely different from all the others we've already seen, but we also found Amorphus Shape."

"I know," Bill replied. "And it's great that there's so much to see."

"What's wrong, then?"

Bill's gaze darkened.

"It's something else."

"Something what?"

Bill stood up and blinked. His darkened expression disappeared, giving way to a dazzling smile.

"Nothing special, just a thought." He held out his hand. "Shall we go?"

He really was a bad liar.

Some of those worlds were exceptional sights, wonders of weirdness that delighted Bill. Their physical laws were more malleable than usual, their unstable structures created fluctuating, ever-changing Dimensions held together on precarious balances. Life was impossible, but fun was guaranteed.

Other worlds, however, had life. A new, alien life that had never heard of the All-Seeing Eye, of the Great Destroyer, of his devouring flames or his deals for knowledge.

Although they knew nothing, there were legends there too. Stories about mammoth creatures, with a power equal to billions of Dimensions, who gave life with breath and left it to die in drifting worlds. Some people believed it was useless to invoke those beings, because their only function was to create and, once they had given life a new shape, they turned their backs on their creatures, to continue the infinite process of creation. Others preferred to venerate the “creatures of the end”, who would welcome them when all the stars went out. An entire race went mad when Bill appeared, believing him to be one of those monsters of destruction: their civilization collapsed on itself in seven days, days Bill and his friends spent on the top of a hill, having a picnic with margaritas and cosmic sand. Aside from the screams and flames, it was even quiet.

They met alone creatures, solitary beings who were the last of their kind or who had isolated themselves from others. They also met an interdimensional traveler once, a creature over 600 years old who had come this far, only thanks to the longevity typical of his species. He told them incredible stories, showed things collected during his travels and greeted them as friends.

Moving through the Ninth Dimension was still terrible: Kryptos felt shattered after each jump and more than once someone vomited. The first time, Amorphus Shape had to lie down and close her eyes for a good minute, before floating again. But, despite being terrible, the jumps through the Ninth Dimension led to fantastic worlds, wonders that were worth a somewhat eventful journey.

There was a lot to see. There were wonderful things to do. There were people to know.

Still, Bill was acting weird. He looked the same, with the same bright smile, the same liveliness and the same charisma. But, while everyone was having fun, sometimes Kryptos had seen him on the sidelines, alone, with a sulky gaze focused on the horizon.

"What's wrong, Bill?"

Bill was an excellent actor, a diva able to make that sulky look disappear behind the most innocent and cheerful smile in the world. He was able to change the subject in an instant, leading it where lying was not necessary.

But he was not able to answer with a convincing lie to that question.

"Nothing."

"Of course there's something." Kryptos wanted to tell him, "Why don't you tell us? ". But he did not dare to insist so much. Maybe it was not even necessary. Bill had recently discovered he could widen his insight to see in ten dimensions: perhaps he was just trying to organize what he was suddenly able to see. What Bill felt was already overwhelming in six dimensions, with all the available universes and their possible ramifications in the future, adding to his enhanced synaesthesia. In ten dimensions, it must have been a thousand times more chaotic. Perhaps, if every now and then he isolated himself with that sulky look, it was only because he was looking for something specific, in the incredible confusion that was the world he perceived.

It made sense and Kryptos wanted to believe it so much. Yet an annoying memory kept stinging him in his mind. The memory of what happened on the asteroid was still fresh, Bill's laugh was still wild and hysterical, the ground was still shaking under his feet. He still remembered how he held out his hand, trying to stop Bill from snapping his fingers, because that snap would change everything, that snap would kill them...

It hadn't killed them at the end, but that jump through the Ninth Dimension had changed everything and the starting point had been an anomalous behavior by Bill.

So now, every time he isolated himself, Kryptos feared to find him laughing wildly again, while his whole shape glitched and emitted electrical discharges, once again clouded by a power he was unable to control.

The calm before the storm.

Kryptos shut his lips tight, imposing himself to ignore that thought. He pushed it back to the back of his mind and it nestled there, in a corner, where it kept tormenting him.

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 26

He did not know if it would work, but he had to try it anyway.

Millennia had passed since the last time he fell asleep. He did not even know how it felt like anymore: every time his eyelids went down, other worlds revealed, other roads opened, other colors blossomed. His senses did no longer shut down and it made sense, after all: energy needs no rest.

But sleeping was the only way he knew, to invoke him. The creatures they met in that local group of Dimensions knew less than he did, some had no idea what an invocation was.

The dream world is the quickest way.

The voices of omniscience had never betrayed him, so it was worth trying. Maybe it would have been enough to enter any Dreamscape to do it.

I have to do it.

I have to know.

The dream world.

Bill looked around one last time and closed his eye. The eyelids dropped, hiding the empty room and the huge windows in the dark. In that Dimension night lasted 32 hours: he had enough time to try, without anyone bothering him.

It must work.

As soon as the room disappeared, the golden web of dreamlike streets emerged from the dark, each leading to a different Dreamscape. Bill tried to descend beyond the streets, into the non-existent space between them: he only managed to slip inside a different road.

He entered a Dreamscape and tried with the invocation: nothing happened, the dream remained identical, the owner did not even notice his presence, focused as he was to win a stupid race. Bill snorted and left, retracing the bridge that would have led him to a new dream road.

There was not a road on the other side of the bridge, but another Dreamscape. Inside there was a representation of the universe in which he was, with its galaxies of sugar that dispersed dust with each rotation. Bill sat in midair, crossed his legs and pointed his finger at the larger star: it swelled like a balloon, the deep sound of red faded into white breath. As the star grew larger, the black surrounding brightened with blue, a delicate cello sound that accompanied the star with that increasingly intense breath.

Suddenly, the white exploded. It stifled the blue, erased the red, filled the black and all that was left was only a slow, dazzling breath.

"You managed to see the stars explode."

A long tail scented with paper and tea floated in front of him, a piano note in the peaceful breath. Bill loosened his crossed legs and turned around.

In front of him, he saw the immense figure of the Axolotl, floating lazily in that senseless white space. His round eyes were the same as that first dream billion of years ago, and his mouth was always curved in the same placid smile. Even his appendages were identical and they swayed, emitting the sweet scent of red.

"You haven't changed at all," Bill said.

"But you have changed a lot, Lelx." As always, his voice came from the surrounding space while his mouth remained closed in the usual gentle smile.

"That's not my name anymore."

"Oh, right." The Axolotl floated around him, slow and curious just like the first time. "Bill Cipher. A name that took you far."

Bill turned with him, following the Axolotl in his orbit.

"You have expanded your knowledge," the Axolotl continued. "You have given wisdom, friendship and death. You spoke, explored and created, as you wanted. You have changed a lot." His voice took on an even more loving inflection. "But only on the outside. You're always the same inside."

Bill raised an eyebrow, his eye bent in an ironic smile.

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

Bill gave a short nasal laugh.

"And what do I have that is "the same"?"

The Axolotl was still smiling, without any signs of being annoyed by his laughter or his tone.

"After all this time, you still miss your home," he kindly replied.

Bill stopped spinning with him, his arms dropped to his sides.

And he burst into a loud laughter.

"MY HOME!" he howled, laughing, both hands on his shape. "As if I could ever miss that pathetic Dimension!" He raised a hand to wipe a tear of mirth from his eye. "Sorry to disappoint you, Frilly, but if there's a place that I really don't miss, that's..."

"Don't lie to yourself, Bill Cipher," the Axolotl interrupted him, still kindly. "You know what I mean by "home"."

The laughter died away, leaving only white breath around. Bill looked down at himself, at his hands pressed on his golden shape. The shape he had chosen when he could have any other.

"Home" was not his Dimension. It was not even his parents. It was the memory of his childhood, of the family around him. It was the memory of his room, of books that filled the shelf, of crumpled sheets that overflowed from the bin, of his desk full of holes for the too many sheets he had engraved, writing as he wrote in the Second Dimension.

It was the memory of the kitchen, of shelves that only his mother could reach, of scents of meat and vegetables, of stains on her apron, of the softness of her hands when she stroked his sides and of her eyelashes on him, when she held him in her arms.

It was the memory of his sisters' rooms, which overflowed with lace and sewing fabrics. Of their indistinct and mysterious shapes, always so focused on Women's works. It was the memory of his younger brother's room, of the cradle in which he rested, which had been used for all the other brothers before him. It was the sound of his joyful wailing whenever he saw him and wanted to play, of the occasional crying, of his father reading stories to the small Shape, sitting in the chair by the door.

And most importantly, it was the memory of his father's study. Of the burning fireplace, of how they sat behind the desk and his father kept him on his knees, as he opened the ledger and showed him what was written on it. It was the memory of the safe behind the bookcase, of the two-and-a-half key turns, of the box in which his father kept his two glow points. It was the cold consistency of the scales, the engraving pen of his father, the rustling of papers, the monocle that magnified everything as if by magic, the hand of his father that surrounded his own.

Fingers folded, hands closed in fists. Bill looked up at the Axolotl and for a moment he felt small and helpless, a lost gray Triangle that wandered around because what he wanted had been lost forever.

Anger filled his veins, a fire that rekindled him and stifled the gray. He was no longer like that! He was different! He was Bill Cipher! He could do it all!

"I don't miss home!" He retorted, his bright yellow flashing. "Now I have the whole Multiverse for me! And I have new friends! I have better creatures with me!"

"It's true," the Axolotl confirmed, "But you'll never have that home again. You will never be able to go back." A veil of kindness softened his figure. "You told yourself that you don't miss it so many times, that it has become the truth for you. But we both know it's still a lie."

"I'm not here for this, Axolotl!" Bill snapped, raising his arm violently, as if to drive away those annoying words. "I looked for you for something different! I need to talk to you!"

"And I'm here to listen to you," the Axolotl replied. Once again, he gave no sign of being annoyed by his sharp reply: indeed, he stopped turning around to give him more attention. "Just ask."

Bill lowered his arms. He closed his eye and took a deep breath. The question he had for months hesitated on the tip of his tongue, waiting.

He opened his eye again and looked at the Axolotl.

"What's beyond?"

The Axolotl did not pretend to be surprised. He just smiled.

"You tell me."

Bill raised his arms.

"The Multiverse is made of Ten Dimensions," he began. "The first is the line, the second is the plane, the third is solid, the fourth is time. The fifth includes all the possible futures of a universe, the sixth allows you to move from one to the other of these possible futures. The seventh includes all the possible births and deaths of the universe. The eighth includes all the universes, each with a different beginning and with its network of possible futures. Network in which one can move through the Ninth Dimension." He closed his hand into a fist. "And finally there's the Tenth Dimension: the whole Multiverse, which includes all possible universes, with all their possible births, with all their networks, with all their possible futures."

Bill lowered his arms and looked at the Axolotl.

"The Multiverse is the end, there's nothing beyond. With the omniscience power, I've seen other infinite alternative versions of me, in infinite alternative Dimensions. Even Pyronica, which I thought was the last one left, actually has alternative versions still alive - even if completely different from her. But I've never seen any version of you. You are nowhere in the Multiverse. There are no versions of you, anywhere, in the ten dimensions."

He moved towards the Axolotl.

"There's something beyond the Multiverse," he declared. "There's something beyond the Tenth Dimension. And you are there."

The Axolotl was silent, the sound of pink filling the breath of white around them. Then, his smile widened into an even gentler one.

"Yes."

That simple confirmation left him breathless. Bill looked down at his hands, at his empty palms. A flower of awareness blossomed at the center of his shape, a spark that flared the connections in his mind. The pieces took place, the strings joined and, what he thought was a finished picture, widened its ends.

There are other dimensions beyond the Tenth.

It doesn't end everything with the Multiverse.

There isn't only this Multiverse.

"Reality is an illusion," he murmured. "The Dimensions I visited, the creatures I spoke with, the stars I burned, everything I saw, myself, everything is an illusion. None of this exists. Everything is only frequency." He touched his arm. "It is all stimuli. Everything around me is a stimulus and a wave. My mind translates those stimuli such as touch, sight, sound, and smell. But they're not really that... and the Multiverse," he continued, spreading his arms. "The Multiverse is only a part! It's not the whole reality! Its particles are part of a whole! I only looked at one part and never at the whole thing!"

"But the whole and the part are united," the Axolotl said to him, in a gentle tone. "It only changes the way you see them. It's as if you're looking into a room with two peepholes, one in front and one on the side. From the peepholes, you see two different creatures moving in sync: you will think they're separate, but connected by some magical force that makes them move together. But those two moving creatures are the same creature. So what you see as a part is actually the whole, but seen from different perspectives. You always have reality in front of you: what changes is your perspective ."

Bill looked up at the Axolotl.

"I want to go beyond the Tenth Dimension," he declared. "I want to reach you, in the place where you are. I don’t want to see reality through peepholes: I want to see reality in its entirety, as you see it."

The Axolotl raised his paws towards him.

"Isn't the Multiverse enough anymore?" He asked, with a tone full of affection. "It's so big and beautiful, so full of wonderful life, so florid and lively."

"There are others!"

"But no one is as beautiful and vivid as yours," said the Axolotl. "There are still many things to see and worlds to know. There are other colors, which you never imagined. There are other stories you never heard of. There is still so much that you haven't seen."

The tip of a finger touched Bill's side in a small caress.

"Don't be in a hurry," the Axolotl continued. "There is still a lot for you in this Multiverse. Keep looking and knowing and maybe, one day, you'll be able to reach me."

His smile widened.

"If you want, I have some advice for you, Bill Cipher: you love chaos, it's a part of you and you like to spread it in all Dimensions. But the chaos spread aimlessly is senseless," he said. "Find a purpose in chaos. Use the rules that are part of you to extend your powers, just as you did with the deals. Get to know these possibilities and you will also know yourself better." A new, small caress. "Or ignore my advice and go another way. Unleash pure chaos and let yourself be devoured by it. Choose what you prefer, but always remember that every choice will lead to consequences."

Bill crossed his arms and looked at him with a pouting eye.

"I should look for knowledge, shouldn't I?" He asked. "That's why you gave me these powers: to know more. And you also gave me free will, if I remember correctly. So why do you deny it to me now?" He raised his arms. "Have I ever had it, if now my choices are reduced to following your advice or being consumed by chaos?"

"You have always had it," the Axolotl reassured him. "And you always will. You're in control of your destiny."

"I'm not fully in control!" Bill replied. "My every decision is always influenced by the past and the future! I can see all the results of any choice I make and I cannot create a new one, because they're all already written." He approached the Axolotl, floating closer to his gigantic muzzle. "Free will doesn't exist!"

The Axolotl waved his long floating tail, his smile seemed to soften even more.

"Look at the matter," he replied. "Deep down in the strings of this Multiverse, everything exists in a state of continuous probabilistic fluctuation. Everything can be and not be. The outcomes you see are not predetermined, but they move in the same state of probabilistic fluctuation as everything else and they begin to exist, only when you choose them. There aren't already established paths: it's you who creates them. Your will is no longer opposed by others and what you want to do, you can do. Everything you want to do can be made exactly how you want it."

Bill snorted.

"It's not true free will," he replied. "I want to be truly free! Free from leaders, from laws, from the Multiverse! I want to be beyond everything! I want to create beyond all rules! I want to know beyond all limits!"

He lowered his arms.

"I explored the Third Dimension, I moved along the Fourth and saw the Fifth," he continued. "I jumped through the Sixth Dimension, understood the Seventh, explored the Eighth and jumped again through the Ninth. Now I see the Tenth and my gaze reaches the boundaries of the Multiverse." He stared at the Axolotl with a defiant look. "I want to jump again. And I will do it."

The Axolotl curled around him as if to protect him.

"How luxuriant your mind has become in a couple of millennia of freedom," he said. "How easy it is for you to think multi-dimensionally, when once only seeing the Third Dimension was a difficult challenge! And yet, despite everything you've learned, you still strive for more, you still have so much craving for knowledge that burns inside you." His smile softened. "What a prodigious mind you have, you little, multiversal miracle."

The Axolotl floated around him.

"Our visions of free will will always be opposite," he said. "But what's left is that you are free to choose, Bill Cipher. Do whatever you want."

Bill floated backward as if a gentle current had pushed him away. The Axolotl stretched his muzzle to reach him,  floating in the white breath.

"Just remember," he added, in a more severe voice. "Whatever your choice will be, be ready to face the consequences."

White breathed harder behind him, closer, too close. Bill spun around in front of the white wall...

And he snapped his eye open, finding himself in front of an open window, illuminated by the first light of dawn.

Chapter Text

ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

CHAPTER 27

Bill was panting, sitting cross-legged in front of the dawn's light that came from the wavy horizon. He sprang to his feet and his legs bent under him, making him sway, unstable. He stumbled forward, stretched out his arms and clung to the windowsill, before falling.

Shivers ran down his arms, his head throbbed, the words the Axolotl told him repeated on a loop, as if their meeting were a dream fading away. The red horizon looked too much like the laced appendages of the Axolotl: Bill still felt his black eyes staring at him, above that stupid gentle smile. Why was he always smiling? What was he so happy about, all the time?

Bill left the windowsill and stumbled backward, until he found enough balance to stand on his legs without falling. He had never got back on his feet with such difficulty after a jump into the dream world. It was all the Axolotl's fault. And of his stupid smile and of him being so stupidly understanding. Why did he have to be so stupidly understanding? It was irritating. Always so good, kind and helpful. That know-it-all had even started to give him advice!

" Find purpose in chaos. "

"But what's left is that you are free to choose, Bill Cipher. Do whatever you want."

"Whatever your choice will be, be ready to face the consequences."

Wow, awesome, very useful indeed. Too bad it was not. He did not need a father to give him advice. He had his friends. He had people ready to bow to his command. He did not need a know-it-all.

"Don't be in a hurry. There is still a lot for you in this Multiverse. Keep looking and knowing and maybe, one day, you'll be able to reach me."

The memory irritated him even more. Bill turned his back on the window and marched to the other side of the empty room, stamping his feet with each step. Stupid Axolotl, giving him advice and orders. And he also thought he knew Bill so well, just because he was omniscient! Just because he was wandering in his special place outside the Multiverse, doing nothing but floating and being cute, while Dimensions were born around him!

Well, Bill was not like him. He was a busy guy. He was not always in the same place, playing the role of the cute magnanimous God, happily satisfied with just watching what others were doing. He traveled, knew, made deals, and fought. He was the Maker and the Destroyer, he was the Lord of Chaos, the Dream Demon, the All-Seeing Eye.

Bill stopped in front of the empty wall, its cream-colored surface seemed to glow under the dawn’s red light. He turned back to the window, to the red light that filled the sky and poured into the room, on the floor, hit his limbs and made his yellow more sparkling.

Although the results of his every choice were already written and free will did not exist, he was still free to choose one result. No Circle could stop him, no Time Baby could oppose him, no other creature could give him orders. Not even the Axolotl.

He returned to the window, facing the red light of dawn, the red that sang with the same sound as the appendages of the Axolotl.

“You are free to choose, Bill Cipher. Do whatever you want."

Bill grabbed the edge of the windowsill, holding it between his fingers. From the abyss of his powers he could see the Multiverse as a huge whole. The Dimensions inside were only points: Dimensions with the same birth orbited nearby, creating subsets and moving away from those with different births. They were irregular clusters of points that orbited closer together, linked by pentadimensional paths that took shape in the Sixth Dimension. And the subsets were connected by the great pathways that made up the Ninth Dimension, incredibly long and invisible roads that only he could travel.

Bill looked at that pattern, those clusters that had billions of Dimensions inside, looked at the large, ninth-dimensional paths, he moved further to look from the whole edge of that Multiverse, infinitely larger than he had imagined once, infinitely smaller than what he knew now.

There's more beyond the Multiverse. There are other Multiverses.

And there's him.

Dawn bathed him in red light. Bill squeezed the edge of the windowsill, hoisted himself on it and stood, holding on to the window. The power seethed in him, radiated like ribbons around his shape, like discharges in the air, like invisible frequencies. He watched the sunrise again, challenging it, challenging the Axolotl to stop him, challenging anyone to stop him.

But nobody could do it, because he was free to choose the path he wanted.

He raised one hand and snapped his fingers.

Something's wrong.

That thought tormented Kryptos so much, to woke him up and look for Bill.

He had asked all the servants and none of them had seen him, nor had received his orders for hours. The guards had not seen him out of the palace. Amorphus Shape, who was walking around the building, had not seen him anywhere. The last time they saw him was during dinner, when they were all together and Bill had entertained them with his chatter.

"Maybe he's in his rooms," 8-Ball had said to him, shrugging. "Doing those dream jumps he likes so much."

And it made sense. It made so much sense that he should have calmed down. He should have shrugged too, said to himself that 8-Ball was right and relaxed. But he could not, because that damned thought kept repeating itself in his mind like a loop.

Something's wrong.

Bill was not in the antechamber. The library was empty, as well as the living room.

"Bill?"

Nobody answered him.

Something's wrong.

He called the others and they split up, looking for Bill. Teeth and Keyhole went to the east side, 8-Ball and Paci-fire to the west, Amorphus Shape to the meditation room. Kryptos, on the other hand, headed for the large living room, with Hectorgon and Pyronica.

Something's wrong.

He was almost running, out of breath, his eye staring straight ahead. He heard the voices of Teeth, Keyhole and 8-Ball calling Bill, far from him. Still no answer.

Bad sign.

"Where did he go?" Pyronica growled between her teeth. Even though she was behind him, Kryptos could very well imagine her predatory gaze without having to turn around.

A memory, Pyronica sitting beside him on a slope, her eyes downcast.

"You're right. I noticed it too."

Bill's dimensional jumps were faster and his behavior was stranger. Like now. And Pyronica noticed it too.

"Now, however, he's more frustrated. As if something annoys him."

And that strange behavior had led to the longest jump Bill had ever made, the first through the Ninth Dimension. The jump that triggered that change in Bill.

Something's wrong.

Kryptos pushed the door with both hands.

The room was empty, the red light of dawn poured from the open windows. Kryptos stepped inside, looking around: no sign of Bill.

"It's not like him to disappear like that," Hectorgon said, across the room. Pyronica leaned out of a window and Kryptos approached her.

"Did you find something?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"I haven't found him," he heard Amorphus Shape, her voice getting closer as she entered the room.

"What about the others?" Pyronica asked.

"They're coming," she replied. "They didn't find anything either."

Kryptos leaned out of the window. Bill was not there, yet there was something there. Like an echo of his presence, of the yellow of his shape.

"He was here," he murmured. His arms, legs, eye were throbbing. He walked away from the window, backwards, and his blood throbbed more slowly.

Closer.

"Not too long ago," Pyronica agreed. Kryptos heard her heels on the floor, as she moved slowly across the room.

Kryptos reached the central window and the pulse got louder, drums filled his mind, his breath felt short. Bill had been there and everyone could feel it. A remnant of his power that attracted them like a magnet.

He heard the others rushing forward.

"Here!" Pyronica called them.

Kryptos touched the windowsill.

He blinked and the building disappeared. The city outside the window disappeared. The window disappeared. The dawn disappeared.

He blinked and they were floating in a space of pitch black, an ocean of nothing, more empty than any galactic supervoid.

"What happened?" Pyronica yelled, hysterical. Her flames were the only light in that ocean of darkness. "Where did we end up?"

Kryptos blinked a second time. Lit by Pyronica's light, he could see that the space above them was not the same as the one behind them, despite being made of the same black: it was flattening and curving as if it were...

A ceiling?

Space curved into a very thin arch, barely visible in the distance, as far as their eyes could see. Above and below, it seemed to converge towards the horizon, towards a line, a line in which...

A yellow light, brighter than the stars, more golden than anything else. A triangular, very small light, on the line of that horizon.

"Bill?"

Something's wrong.

At long, long last.

After millennia of travel, after centuries of jumps, after having plunged deeper and deeper into the ocean of his powers, he had finally arrived there. After seeing everything, his eye finally fell on the furthest thing possible: the edge of the Multiverse.

It was a starless band, black and thin - the thinnest ever. It was the perfect region, the curve of the oval. In other places, the Multiverse was as thick as the whole Dimensions, but where it curved, the thickness was reduced to a few trillion light years.

Bill took a deep breath. Power pulsed in his veins, drummed in his shape, radiated like light from a star. He felt it touch the black wall of the Multiverse, press against it.

I'm finally here.

He put both hands on the edge of the Multiverse and felt an invisible force press against his palms, opposing his touch, as if they were two magnets with the same pole repelling each other.

A law of balance.

He almost laughed. So that was the final obstacle that prevented him from leaving the Multiverse? A stupid, little law of balance?

He was not just any creature, forced to follow the laws. He was not a simple star, which could be contained. He was not a Dimension, motionless in the Multiverse. He was far above any creature, far above the Dimensions and infinitely above the laws. He was special and unique. He was the Lord of the ten dimensions.

And after that jump, he would have been a God like the Axolotl.

His power flew along his arms, through veins and arteries. Bill felt it in his palms and up his fingers, one by one, surrounding them with the same throbbing golden aura he had seen that first time millennia ago, in the prison where they had locked him up when he was not yet Bill.

He pushed against that force, that stupid law of multiversal balance that tried to oppose him, the God of the Multiverse. Nobody could oppose him. Nobody could stop him. He was a God!

The law kept opposing him, the force was still rejecting him.

How did it dare to oppose him? How dare it DENY him what he wanted?

I AM THE GOD OF THE MULTIVERSE!

Bill dove deeper into the ocean of his powers, reached the bottom and made the water rise. The ground shook, his shape shook, the space around him shook. The power that flowed through him became denser, became his blood and his flesh. He felt it flow golden under his skin, he felt it dripping from his eye like tears, he felt it radiating from his shape.

You can do everything.

The black of his arms turned yellow, it became metal and trumpet blasts. Bill laughed, a short laugh full of satisfaction, of will to live, of the same drunken triumph he had experienced in a previous life, in the now-dead Dimension of Roule, when colors surrounded and overwhelmed him.

Now there were only yellow and black, around him and part of him.

I AM THE LORD OF THIS WORLD!

The edge of the Multiverse trembled under his hands, the balance force started to crack.

AND I WILL BE THE LORD OF ALL WORLDS!

The balance force broke, under the immense thrust of his power. Bill's fingers filled that infinitesimal distance that separated him from the wall of the Multiverse. He felt its cold, smooth surface against his knuckles, his power came into contact with the edge of the Tenth Dimension.

And all black disappeared in an explosion of white.

He had seen that triangular figure for millennia, to not recognize it at first glance. Kryptos floated towards him, an outstretched hand, relief and fear alternating in his mind.

Why is he here?

Where is "here"?

"Kryptos, stop." Hectorgon grabbed his other wrist. His voice was frightened, the words overlapped trembling. "Stop, I..."

"What's Bill doing over there?" Pyronica asked.

A dazzling white light emanated from where Bill was. An explosion more intense than anything else, blinding more than a thousand supernovae, a power that even Bill could not have matched hit him, erasing the yellow of his shape and the black of space in the blink of an eye.

Kryptos screamed and jerked forward, one hand reaching out for him.

"BILL!"

For a moment he thought he saw him turn, amid that blinding whiteness.

Pyronica's arms wrapped around him and pushed him back, against Hectorgon and against her, her hair brushed against his top, while she curled up and squeezed her eye shut. The dazzling white light ran towards them, consuming space and time.

"BILL!"

He saw Amorphus Shape's black vines, wrapping all around them.

And finally white hit them and erased everything else.

END OF CHAPTER 27

END OF ACT IV - MULTIVERSE

Chapter Text

ACT V - NIGHTMARE REALM

CHAPTER 28

The white explosion erased every word, every sound, every thought. Kryptos felt nothing, except for Hectorgon's mouth pressed against his back, his hand around his wrist, Pyronica's arms squeezing him hard against her chest, the motionless caress of her hair.

Outside that suffocating squeeze there was only white, white that burned the eye and deleted every sight.

Have I gone blind?

Although his mouth was pressed against Pyronica's arm, he still managed to breathe and her flames did not enter his mouth, nor had any taste. Maybe she had turned them off. Kryptos did not know, he could not see their color. He could not even see his own.

The white explosion began to recede, an echo that was slowly fading away, to the rhythm of his long breaths. The black reappeared: a blue black, still lit by the dazzling light that was slowly going out. Hectorgon did not move, Pyronica either. He remembered Amorphus Shape's vines: was she there too, with them? Was she still there?

White dissolved, blue became darker and darker, fading into black again. No sound arose from the silence left by the white.

Kryptos had not even realized he had closed his eye and realized it, only by lifting his eyelid again. They were surrounded by a normal, black universe, a space like many others, dotted with myriads of stars. Many formed galaxies, in which yellow and red alternated. The closest, however, shone with a gentle white light.

It wasn't the same place they were in before.

Where did we end up?

Pyronica's arms still held him tight. Looking up, Kryptos saw her head bowed, her eye shut and her legs pulled against her chest to protect them. Amorphus Shape's lianas surrounded her, black ribbons against the pink of Pyronica's skin.

It had all been too quick. Bill on the horizon, how Kryptos held out a hand, Hectorgon taking his arm, Pyronica holding them, Amorphus Shape wrapping them all with her lianas. She had just enough time to grab them all, before that blinding explosion threw them in that unknown place.

Where are the others?

That sudden thought made him look back at the black space of the unknown Dimension in which they were.

They had split up to find Bill. Teeth and Keyhole went one way, 8-Ball and Paci-fire took another direction. He remembered their voices, the nod they exchanged, before separating.

But then they were going to reach him, Hectorgon, Pyronica and Amorphus. They were joining them in the lounge. He remembered Pyronica and Amorphus Shape talking about it, as he walked towards the window.

"What about the others?"

"They're coming."

Then he touched the windowsill and... something was left there. A remnant of Bill's power, the same power that had attracted them to that room. As soon as Kryptos touched it, the power activated and the four of them had ended up in the same place where Bill was.

Were the others left behind? Were they still in the palace, looking for them? Hours should've passed since their disappearance. Teeth was probably scared to death, Keyhole was sweeping the whole room while searching for clues. Maybe 8-Ball moved to look outside the building, while Paci-fire was scaring every single creature, to get more information.

We have to contact them. Perhaps they had seen the white explosion and sensed that something was wrong. Maybe they realized Bill was involved in some way.

But what good would it do? Even if they had seen the explosion, how could Kryptos, Hectorgon, Pyronica and Amorphus Shape contact them? We don't have any idea where we ended up! Maybe they were very far away, maybe they had jumped through the Ninth Dimension and ended up in a different cluster of Dimensions. How would they go back? They couldn't do it without...

Bill!

Kryptos looked around frantically.

Where's Bill?

Bill's image was still lingering in front of his eye, his triangular silhouette against the black background of that strange ocean of nothingness, which seemed to narrow on the horizon. With each blink of his eye, he saw his motionless triangular shape, which radiated light and power. The last time yellow had shone, before being submerged by white.

Where is he?

The explosion had started from where he was and had hit him fully. That dazzling light had annihilated everything and its power had been so strong, to throw the four of them into a different Dimension. What had happened to Bill, who was so close to the explosion?

Is he still alive?

Kryptos kept searching among the stars, looking everywhere, attracted by every speck of golden light, hoping that one of them would be Bill. He could not have died, not for this. He had lived for millennia, destroyed entire universes with the snap of his fingers, he had the power to jump through Dimensions. He could not be dead, it was not possible.

But that explosion was the most devastating thing they had ever seen. It was much stronger than Bill. It was much stronger than any Dimension-destroying blue flame.

What happened?

How did it happen?

He can't be dead.

A golden light caught his eye, but it was just a star a bit brighter than the others. He moved his gaze to the opposite side and, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something in the area of space he had just looked at. There was something out of place, a less intense yellow that had been confused between the bright lights of the stars.

He looked back in that direction, focusing on each star, on each black space, waiting for that something to come up again. And it did.

There was something in that direction, something with limbs of the same black as the space around and a shape of the same yellow as the stars. Something that floated adrift, in the black of the firmament.

Bill!

Kryptos wriggled and managed to slip out of Pyronica's grip. She shook herself out of her trance, her arms spread, Amorphus Shape's lianas loosened. Kryptos’ arm escaped from under Hectorgon's hand and he floated towards Bill.

He was still intact, his shape a simple yellow, his eye closed.

He can't be dead!

"Bill!"

He was floating.

He floated weightlessly on a black sea, lost in his senses and with his senses lost. Pain throbbed in his mind, pain throbbed everywhere, but there was no real pain. It was like when that Circle whipped him, but there was no Circle, no whip, no pain, no fun.

There was nothing and it was far worse.

He did it, he managed to touch the edge of the Multiverse. He had broken the law of equilibrium that wanted to keep him inside, along with all other mortal creatures. He had felt the edge of the Multiverse against his fingers, smooth and delicate as glass. Beyond that edge, there were other unknown Dimensions, higher than the Tenth. There was a different state of everything. It was all there.

It was one step away.

It was one jump away.

It was one whisper away.

But the wall of the Multiverse had pushed him back. The white explosion had hit him, erasing everything, erasing him. For a single moment, everything had been just pain. His skin burned in the heat, blood evaporated in the unbearable temperature, bones had been turned to ash.

Just a moment, an instant of pure pain. He had not even had time to scream, because there was nothing left of him that could do it. His shape had caught fire, had become dust and ashes, fragments that had been annihilated by the dazzling white.

And now he was nothing.

No bones, no blood, no flesh. Nothing.

That is not how it was supposed to go. He should have made the jump out of the Multiverse. He had the power to do it. He had the strongest will that existed, in this or any other Multiverse! He was unique. He was the All-Seeing Eye, the Maker and the Destroyer, the God of the Multiverse. He should have done it! He was so sure he could! He had made it!

But the Multiverse had opposed him. Those stupid laws had opposed him once again.

Curse this place!

Curse these laws!

Cursed the Dimensions that brought me here!

And now, what did he have? NOTHING! That horrible, empty abyss of NOTHING that had become! No pain, no victory, no flesh, nothing nothing NOTHING!

CURSE YOU ALL!

He opened his eye and saw the black space above him, dotted with distant stars. The hated, usual space of the Multiverse, of a common galaxy. Everywhere in the Multiverse, STILL in the Multiverse.

CURSE THE MULTIVERSE THAT BROUGHT ME HERE!

"Bill!"

He heard Kryptos' voice and turned his gaze: the Square was flying at full speed towards him. His gaze was full of relief.

What was there to be so relieved about? What was so funny, when he had just lost everything?

"Bill!" Kryptos seemed on the verge of tears. He reached him and put a hand on his arm. "How are you? What happened? Are y…?"

Words died on his tongue. Kryptos looked down, stared at his fingers resting on his arm. Slowly, the pupil went up along the limb, reached the shoulder, until it met Bill's gaze. His eye was wide open, shocked, with a hint of fear in his parted lips.

"What happened to you?" He murmured.

Bill pulled his arm out of his grasp and floated away, bringing the limb against his shape. Kryptos was still staring at him, with that frightened, worried expression.

He noticed it.

Kryptos had touched him, but Bill no longer had skin and bones and blood to touch. And Kryptos must have felt the difference... whatever it was, when a being made of flesh and blood touched what Bill had become.

"Bill!" he heard Pyronica's voice.

Kryptos still looked at him in shock, waiting for an explanation. His eye was unbearable, it was a boulder, it was a wall, it was a thousand questions that wanted an answer, it was a film that looped over his failure.

Stop that!

Bill glared at him.

Not a word. Never. With nobody.

"Bill! You're alive!" Pyronica arrived, along with Hectorgon and Amorphus Shape. Hectorgon let out a deep sigh of relief.

"For a moment I thought you were dead, damn you!" He exclaimed. "I got so damn scared!"

"What happened?" Amorphus Shape asked, her five eyes looking around. "Where are we?"

Bill looked away. Anger throbbed in his fractured mind, pounding against its cracked walls. He wanted to scream until he broke that Dimension with his yells. He wanted to crush stones in his hands. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to scream again, until he finally heard something again in his empty shape.

But the others were in front of him, looking at him, analyzing his gestures, waiting for his decision. He was their boss and he could not be weak.

"Where are the others?" He managed to give his voice a firm tone, with a slight bored inflection. Nobody reacted suspiciously.

Pyronica looked around.

"They were reaching us." She looked at him again. "Maybe they're not here and they're still at the palace."

Bill closed his eye. He felt his eyelids tremble, his anger barely held behind his teeth. The voices of omniscience had become inaudible whispers. The ocean of powers was motionless, dense and suffocating, the bottom unreachable.

He reopened his eye, turned his back on his friends and floated away, pretending to think. When he was distant enough, he brought a hand close to him and snapped his fingers.

It was a small snap, with a muffled noise. Bill clenched his teeth and snapped his fingers once, twice, three times: nothing but small, timid sounds.

He was blocked. He could no longer jump between Dimensions.

He squeezed his eye tight, screams screeched inside him, which clawed and banged against his mind. He wished he could have skin to cut, bones to break, veins to bite. He wanted to shatter himself, just to feel SOMETHING AND NOT JUST THE SCREAMS, STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT, ENOUGH!

"You hate the cage..."

Why, why THAT too? Wasn't it enough to have become a shadow of his former self? Having become just pure energy, which still had a shape only thanks to his will? Why also TAKE THE DIMENSIONAL JUMPS AWAY FROM HIM? I DON'T DESERVE THIS, IT IS MY SEARCH FOR KNOWLEDGE! IT'S MY JOURNEY BEYOND EVERY LAW AND BORDER! WHY DENYING THIS TOO?

"... But it’ll be in a cage, that you will spend most of your life."

The screams increased, piercing shrieks ripped pieces of his mind, broke them in half, shattered them into millions of splinters.

It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair, IT WASN'T FAIR! He was special and unique! The Lord of the Multiverse! Above everything and everyone! I DON'T DESERVE ALL OF THIS, NOTHING! CURSE THE MULTIVERSE! CURSE THE RULES! CURSE THE LAWS! CURSE…!

"Bill, are you alright?"

Bill snapped his eye open and spun around. Pyronica, Hectorgon, Kryptos and Amorphus Shape were all there and they were all looking at him, perplexed. They were waiting for his decision. They were looking at him and saw something that had the shape of their boss.

If they know...

He was the boss, the one who always had an ace up his sleeve and who always knew what to say. He was the guide, the God, the leader. He was the one who protected them and gave them powers, the one who was always standing.

If they knew that something had happened to him, that he had become so weak, that he could no longer jump between Dimensions... they...

NO, NO, NO!

They would leave him.

They would go away. Why stay with someone who can no longer do anything? Why be with him, if it meant getting stuck there? They would leave him behind and go away. They could still do it, right? They were still made of flesh and blood. They were still alive and happy, they were not shadows of their former selves, they were not mutilated like him, they had not been crushed by the CURSED LAWS OF THE MULTIVERSE THAT HAD OPPOSED HIM AND MADE HIM NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING!

His arms fell to his sides. Bill lowered his eyelids and, in that slow movement, he felt the anger grow: a colossal monster that growled, trampling on the pieces of his shattered mind.

He opened his eye again.

Nobody will know. I won't stay here alone forever.

"The others aren't in the palace," he replied, his voice empty and calm. He put his hands behind the shape and turned his back on his companions. "They've been brought here too."

"And where are they?" Pyronica asked.

Bill looked around, his eye half-closed.

"This place is very large," he replied, in a bored voice, "And many different creatures live there."

He turned back to them.

"I want to make my kingdom," he declared. "We will go from planet to planet, we will talk to all those who live here and I will persuade them to join me. From visit to visit, we will also find Teeth, Keyhole, 8-Ball and Paci-fire."

The four stared at him with wide eyes and open mouths, as if he had just said something completely crazy.

"Do you want... why?" Pyronica asked, raising her arms.

"Why not?" he replied. "I've never had a kingdom that was mine. I'll make one here."

"But why right here?" Hectorgon pursed his lips. "We've just arrived, we know nothing about this place and instead of looking for the others immediately..."

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear," Bill interrupted him, his voice so sharp, that he could have cut the Hexagon in half. "I didn't ask for your opinion. This WILL BE my kingdom. PERIOD."

Hectorgon gaped, Pyronica lowered her arms. Kryptos was motionless, dazed, his eye filled with dread.

"In the end, we would still do as you want, wouldn't we?" It was Amorphus Shape who broke that stasis: there was a timid hint of fun in her deep voice, her eyes moved from Hectorgon, to Pyronica to Bill. "As always."

Hectorgon shook himself out of his trance: he closed his mouth and rubbed his mustache.

"As always," he repeated, a hint of uneasiness in his tone.

"Yes... as always." Even Pyronica's frozen expression gradually melted into a slight smile.

"Okay," the Hexagon talked again, this time with a hint of liveliness. "Let's make this kingdom."

Chapter Text

ACT V - NIGHTMARE REALM

CHAPTER 29

They had never truly explored a Dimension, one planet at a time. Bill always knew where life was and where it was not, so he took them only to the most interesting places: visiting one planet at a time, talking to all creatures, and even getting bored was something they had never done before.

But Bill wanted to talk. He wanted to sit and chat with each of those creatures, listen to them spill myriads of useless information on him, before taking the floor and discussing business.

Fortunately, that unknown Dimension - which only after eight visits they learned was called Dimension Zero - had an incredible amount of creatures different from each other: jelly beings, creatures with eight arms, rock giants, gas monsters, there were plenty of choices. And everyone had chosen that place to live.

"I like it here," a demon had told them as he handed out teacups. "I don't have much to do and it's relaxing not to hear my parent's voices. But sometimes those annoying Zalogre come here to do their wrestling tournaments. I always have to pay them to make them go away! But I don't have endless money!"

"A real problem," Bill replied, in his most sugary tone. "You don't deserve this: I'll stop the Zalogre and they won't bother you anymore. You just have to give me your support."

"Okay." The demon shrugged. "I've nothing left to lose now: I've already tried everything else."

But getting deals was not always that easy.

"What do I get, if I don't go there anymore?" The head of the Zalogre crossed all six arms. "I like that place: the idiot pays us and, if he doesn't, we train for free. Send him away."

"Let's make a deal." Bill held out his hand. "Give me your support and I'll give you a place to train that won't make you regret the old one."

At least deals still work.

Kryptos shrugged, trying to shake off even those uncomfortable thoughts. He still remembered the strange sensation he felt, when he touched Bill's arm. It had not been as usual, like when he grabbed his arm or patted him on the back. He could not explain it, but it was like... as if Bill were no longer solid. It had been like touching a magnetic field of opposite signs, which pushed him away by pressing against his skin. And his fingers had tingled, as if Bill had sent him very small electric shocks.

He squeezed his fingers tightly and pursed his lips, feeling like an idiot. The others would have laughed, to hear that absurd explanation. Magnets? Electricity? Bill was the same as always! Well, he was much, much more sulky than usual and he had bad mood swings. But perhaps it would have been enough to leave him alone and make him simmer, as Hectorgon had suggested.

" When young people are angry, they just need to let off steam, " he said. “ And Bill is basically a kid. Leave him alone and he'll get over it. "

Still, that scene kept repeating in a loop: he touched his arm, Bill slid it away, to bring it against his chest. Bill's expression was still vivid before his eye: a mixture of anger, fear and madness that made him look like a hunted animal. And then the peremptory order that had filled his mind.

Never talk to anyone about it.

Bill no longer raised the issue, nor clarified it. Nobody asked questions, waiting for him to talk about it, and he never did it again. When the five of them were alone, he would talk about the next visit, explain who they would meet, decide what they should do. The past no longer existed, the old Dimensions were no longer mentioned: Dimension Zero was the only one, the present and the immediate future. The white explosion had no longer been mentioned either and Bill had never explained what that strange, empty space was, why he was there, or what was the reason behind his anger.

"You thought you had found the ideal place. The perfect peace. But it rains acid on this planet and you can't go out for nine months."

"It's true…"

"And you can't even go to the nearby planets, because they're all already occupied."

"T... that’s also true!"

"You would like the weather to change, but how can you change it? You would like to move, but you cannot face an intergalactic journey. You are stuck here."

"How do you know all these things about me? Did you spy on me?"

"I don't need to spy on anyone, because I'm the All-Seeing Eye. I see everything, without needing to be here. I can read your wishes, even before you have them, and offer you a way to solve them."

"..."

"If you’re interested. Otherwise, I take my leave."

"How... how would you solve them?"

"By becoming the leader of this Dimension. If you support me, I will change the weather on your planet."

"You can do... this? How? Who are you, actually?"

"I am Bill Cipher and, if you accept, you will make the best deal of your entire existence."

"We already have a boss. We don't need you."

"Really? Your boss hasn't done a great job of giving you enough space. How many are you in here? Thirty?"

"... Twenty-five."

"To me, it seems a little too much. And your female is expecting children. Do you really want to give birth to them in this hole?"

"Things will get better! We're just waiting..."

"That more space will magically appear out of thin air? Or that your boss will build better shelters? The truth is that your precious boss is only interested in having more furs for his throne and you know it very well. You've seen it."

"We trust our boss: he's from our species. What do you know about us and our needs?"

"Do you want an example? I know you've been hunting spiked boars for years, using those stupid electrified spears that make them mad. You all know it, but you still use them because your boss orders it. You lost an arm, your woman a leg. In the meantime, your friend Youj trained three spiked boar cubs and they have proved themselves to be so docile, to play with his newborn son."

"These are not facts!"

"They are. You hunt a harmless species and sic it on yourself, just because your boss is an idiot. I may be from a different species, but I'm sure that getting torn by wild boars is not among your needs."

"It's temporary... things will improve."

"When? When you'll be dead? When your son will lose an arm or a leg or his life against one of those creatures? Things can change now. Right now, with the coming of a completely different creature! If you want to change everything, it’s up to each of you. You're hunters, your instincts never fail: do you really want to miss this opportunity or do you want to take things into your own hands? Join me, accept me as your leader and then things will change."

"It rains diamonds here, I have followers who respect me and my casino makes me earn good money. What could you give me that I don't have?"

"I don't know... freedom?"

"I'm the boss of this place, if it wasn't clear enough."

"And you're a wanted criminal in 15 different Dimensions. Maybe the guys who work for you have no problem turning a blind eye to a couple of diamonds passed under the table. But will you have enough to keep 15 Dimensions silent?"

"Are you... are you threatening me?"

"Why should I? I came in peace, just to make a deal. You know, there are many greedy people in this Dimension: some would be ready to cut their own arms, to have something more. While others are so desperate that even a "Thank you for your help" would be enough. Maybe said by a Time Police officer."

"..."

"..."

"What do you want?"

"It depends. How much do you think my silence is worth?"

"... okay, I will support your damn rise to power. Become the leader of this place, if you care. I'll convince everyone to support you."

"Excellent. And...?"

"And what?"

"Financing me would be quite nice, don't you think? You know, it would be a clear demonstration of your trust and respect for the new ruler of the Dimension."

 "Are you kidding me?!"

"It depends: how much do you like the Infinitentiary's cooking? Considering the name, I doubt your stay will be short."

"... urgh, fine. Let's close this fucking deal."

"I... I heard this name before."

"Hm?"

"All-Seeing Eye. My nana had told me when I was very young. It was linked to ancient rites, which had been handed down from nana to nephew over centuries: she was one of the last to practice them, but most had stopped believing it. They used objects related to earth and star cycles. Primitive stuff. And... and there were songs in pre-language. I think they were the last pre-language words still known. She told me they were songs of invocation, addressed to an omniscient God who traveled between Dimensions. But he wasn't one of those invisible Gods, no, everyone had seen him: he had appeared in the sky and had come down among the first inhabitants to give them knowledge. The songs were a way to thank him and beg him to come back. She told me that, one day in the future, the All Seeing Eye would return to our world, bringing a new seed of knowledge with him, to give birth to our species for a second time."

"Oh, wow, I'm surprised someone remembered my visit for such a long time! Most people proved themselves to be very rude: they haven't even talked to their grandchildren about me. It wouldn't have been too difficult, to thank me for a couple of generations at least! They deserve to become extinct."

"But... you can't be the same All-Seeing Eye they talked about. That was a thousand-year-old God. My planet had just formed. You... can't be that old."

"Age is relative, my friend."

"And that God... that God was all-knowing and all-powerful."

"Still me."

"But... how?"

"I know, I know. It's a whole other thing in person: I'm always different from how they pictured me."

"My... my people waited for you for millennia."

"Time is an illusion, everything around you is! Mortals believe everything is real, but just because they're unable to see beyond the great deception of senses. Don't worry, it doesn't matter now: I decided I'll stop in one place, so no one will have to wait for my arrival for centuries. All those who want to make a deal with me, can come here and make their offer. Everyone will know where to find me! Of course, it'll be up to them to convince me to accept, but that's secondary."

"I... I can't believe it."

"Yeah, I wouldn't believe it either, if I was a mortal who talks to me! This forgotten Dimension will become the greatest kingdom of the Multiverse, the impenetrable fortress of the All-Seeing Eye. And all this, only thanks to your support!"

"Do you just want support? Just this?"

"Just this, I'm a God who is easily satisfied! So, what do you think, friendo? Do you want to help me, in tribute to your old nana?"

"Ahahahaha! That's a good one! You want to make this Dimension a fortress! Sorry to disappoint you, little triangle, but there's no border here or a single entrance. You can appear everywhere in this place, at any time. How are you going to do it? By being in all places at once? Good luck with that!"

"I don't need to be everywhere in person. I just need to put my image everywhere and I will be able to see."

"Uh? What kind of skills would that be? I've never heard of such a thing. And anyway, if someone like Time Police came in, how are you going to stop them? The agents won't be nice to you, just because you're small. Or will you offer them to sit, have some tea and make a deal? Ahahahahah!"

"As soon as they’ll see me, they'll understand that they must go away and never disturb me again."

"Pff... hahahaha! That's rich! Time Police running away from you!"

"I made it very clear, last time we met: they stay out of my business, I stay out of theirs. That ridiculous Time Baby tried to scare me, by putting a bounty on me, but he actually did me a favor."

"You have a bounty put on by Time Baby himself?! If that's true, you should be one of the most famous wanted criminals in the Multiverse. But I never heard your name."

"I know, many are afraid to say it - and they're right. So they just call me "All-Seeing Eye"."

"Wait wait WHAT?! "All-Seeing Eye"?"

"O-oooh, so you know me! Some old nana's story?"

"No, they were two guards... I heard them talking about it, in the Infinitentiary. But... but it can't be you! It's a million years old bounty!"

"Nah, it's been a lot more than one million years."

"They were talking about a creature so powerful that even Time Baby had problems with it!"

"We had an unfinished business. And he started it anyway."

"I don't believe it. I don't believe it. You can't be the same guy!"

"I know, I'm so much better in person, stories don't do justice. So, what do you wanna do? Join me and accept me as your leader... or see by yourself why Time Baby has put such a high bounty on me?"

The next planet was nothing but a ball of rock, full of craters and caves. Gray was the only color to dominate the flat landscape, along with the black of the space around it.

"There's nothing here," Pyronica complained, kicking some pebbles.

Kryptos looked around: no life, no buildings. The only thing that was there was an old spaceship, which must have crashed on the surface of the planet centuries earlier. The ceiling was broken through, engines reduced to ashes, and the rest was a pile of plates stuck in the ground. The glossy coating that once covered them was just near the base: the rest had been eroded by space dust and all that was left was the iridescent material. Amorphus Shape was tapping it with the tip of her lianas, intrigued.

"It can be useful." Bill approached the remains of the spaceship and ran a hand over the iridescent surface of the largest slab. "That's excellent building material. Such a large plate is worth at least a couple of planets. We could…"

His words suddenly died and Bill turned to the right. By following the direction of his gaze, Kryptos saw Pyronica move slowly in the same direction, her body ready to attack, her flames burning quietly.

Amorphus Shape reached her, silent like a feather, both lianas raised and deadly. Bill followed them, his whole shape tensed. Kryptos and Hectorgon queued.

The destination was a nearby cave, identical to all the others around: same semicircular entrance, same stalactites hanging from the ceiling. The only difference was that, while the others were immersed in darkness, a dim light came from that cave in particular, which brightened the black walls.

Someone lives here.

It was an empty planet, no one was supposed to be there. And the spaceship was centuries old: what if someone survived, perhaps a creature with a very long lifespan?

One meter from the entrance, Kryptos caught other noises. There was no doubt they came from inside the cave: tinkling footsteps, feet crawling. A shadow obscured the weak light coming from the bottom.

It's coming.

Pyronica stopped and everyone else did the same. A figure emerged from inside the cave, colossal compared to the small entrance, accompanied by that strange tinkling and the sound of heavy footsteps. A figure with two legs, long arms and two bright eyes with pupils shaped like eights.

"G... guys?"

Pyronica jumped, Amorphus Shape lowered the vines, Bill let his arms drop. Kryptos leaned in curiously and Hectorgon grabbed his arm.

Followed by the omnipresent sound of chains, a creature appeared from the cave. The light hit his green skin, his open mouth, his jaw dangling in surprise and his curved fangs. His eyes moved from face to face, the numbers eight swinging in amazement.

After four months in Dimension Zero, they had finally found 8-Ball.

Chapter Text

ACT V - NIGHTMARE REALM

CHAPTER 30

"I didn't know what to do," 8-Ball told them. "There was no one there, I couldn't leave and I couldn't send messages. And there was nothing to eat."

"What did you do then?" Pyronica asked. "Did you stay in the cave all the time?"

"Just a couple of days," he replied. "I was hungry, so I went looking for something to eat. But there was nothing here, then I found geoids. They’re hard as stone outside, but very soft inside. They taste terrible, but better than nothing."

Pyronica elbowed him with a broad smile. Amorphus Shape was floating on his other side, her lianas swaying slightly. Kryptos was smiling and Hectorgon's lips were turned upwards.

They were a group of happy and cheerful friends, sharing the joy of being together. Bill was outside and watched them smile, united by the same joy, by giving off heat, by the blood that was flowing in their veins, by being able to touch and feel solid and alive and flesh, by being able to feel something, being able to truly feel happiness, hunger and thirst and joy and tiredness.

Bill clenched his hands in two fists. Well, if 8-Ball had enjoyed starving so much, then he could stay there and stop getting it in his face! Stop pointing out that he was hungry! Unlike Bill, who couldn't feel anything anymore, because he had become NOTHING. Power no longer flowed through his veins, since he no longer had any veins! Ahahahah! What kind of boss was he, one who had nothing left, who WAS nothing? Not like ME, 8-Ball, with my LIFE and FEELS AND I CAN TOUCH AND TALK AND TASTE AND LAUGH STOP IT, STOP IT…!

"It's impossible!"

Pyronica's exclamation broke the spiral of black thoughts, the hysterical screams fell silent instantly. Bill blinked, focusing again on the assembled group.

"I'm telling you," 8-Ball replied. "I kept counting them."

"We too!" Kryptos added. "Or, at least, I did it. We've been here for four months and two days."

8-Ball shook his head.

"It's much more."

"Bill," Pyronica turned to him. "How long have we been here? You know for sure."

"Four months and two days," he confirmed.

"I marked everything on the walls of the cave," 8-Ball insisted. "By counting the days in thirty-hour cycles and the months in thirty-day cycles, as I did in prison: eleven months and two days passed since I came here."

Bill raised an eyebrow.

"I'm also counting in thirty-hour cycles," he said. "And it's been four months and two days."

"Check it out." 8-Ball pointed to the cave. "I'm not wrong. It's eleven months and two days."

"How is it possible that you've been here longer than us?" Pyronica insisted.

"I'm going to check it out," Bill said. He moved away from the group, from the overlapping voices and floated inside the cave.

The voices became more and more muffled, as he went deeper into the rocky shelter. There was a distant light in front of him that shone lazily in white and blue. Once he reached it, he found out it was a small fire, made with tiny slats of the spaceship's iridescent material.

A clever trick, typical 8-Ball. He looked like an idiot, but when it was time, he always found sweet solutions. Bill smiled. He's part of my gang, after all.

The blue and white fire was bright enough to light up the walls of the cave. And, as 8-Ball said, all of them were covered with small black marks.

Bill lowered himself to take the longest stick from the fire and lifted it: the hours had been counted with small signs, thirty signs cut sideways by longer lines indicating the days. And the lines were grouped in piles of thirty, to indicate months.

He counted them: eleven piles, eleven months. Detached from the last one, there were two lines with thirty hours each and a stone with a sharp edge was left on the ground. 8-Ball must have traced that last sign, just before going out and seeing them.

Bill ran his gaze along the walls, along the carefully drawn marks. Eleven months and two days. 8-Ball had spent eleven months on that planet, even though they had only been in that Dimension for four.

He threw the glowing stick into the fire, turned his back on it and floated to the exit of the cave. 8-Ball had been there, shivering in the cold, looking for a way to survive, waiting and hoping for their arrival. If they had arrived later, there would have been much more time marked on that wall. He would have been alone, without his friends.

Alone.

Bill blinked, trying to divert his mind from that new spiral of thoughts. Instead, he focused on the voices he heard coming from outside.

"It was that," Hectorgon was saying. "The white explosion."

Bill stopped.

"It created a temporal paradox," the Hexagon explained. "Those who were closest to the core of the explosion were not affected, while those who were further away did. This explains why we only spent four months here, while 8-Ball eleven."

"You think it depends on the distance?" Kryptos asked, his tone concerned. "The further away you are, the more time it passes?"

"I don't know. It depends on what Paci-fire, Keyhole and Teeth will tell us when we'll find them."

"But how would just an explosion have...?"

"It wasn't just an explosion, Pyronica." Hectorgon interrupted her. "We've all seen it. A normal explosion would have pulverized us instantly: that one brought us here."

Silence. Bill moved again, slowly, one hand against the rock wall. The light from outside made the rocks shine.

"Did Bill cause it?" Pyronica asked.

"Who else?" Hectorgon let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know what he did but, whatever it was, it turned against him. That's why he's in a bad mood now and he doesn't want to leave this place."

"But maybe it's a good thing," Kryptos tried. "He likes this Dimension enough, to make it his kingdom. Over time, he might even get fond of it and decide not to leave anymore. We could settle here, instead of keep traveling forever."

"It wouldn't be like him," Hectorgon replied. "Bill is a traveler. Have you ever seen him stop in one Dimension for more than a couple of centuries? In the end, he always gets bored and leaves. I tell you, it'll be the same here: as soon as the bad mood passes, this place will bore him too and we will leave."

There were months when nothing was easy.

“I don't trust this whole deal bullshit. You'll sell us to Time Police and we won't go back to the Infinitentiary. Go find another idiot to trick.”

In which every single creature of that accursed Dimension seemed to do their best to unnerve him. They kept asking questions, even ridiculous ones, hoping he would betray himself and reveal some hidden truth.

“So you're a wanted criminal? And why have I never heard your name before?"

There was not some hidden, secret truth behind his deals. He did not need to hide the truth to convince others. An excellent merchant did not have to lie, just to bend reality.

“Let's start from the bottom. Join my gang as a rookie and if you're smart enough, maybe I'll make you grade up in a couple of years."

But many creatures did not understand these commercial subtleties. They were just cheap criminals, who escaped the law and survived only because of their stubbornness. They had never made agreements and all they had was the result of stealing or lying.

They were scum.

“You want to rule over me? Forget it. I have no bosses. I killed the last one and if you try to do the same, you'll end up just like him."

Even the patience of the best merchant of the Multiverse could fail. Why did Bill have to use all of his charm and his fine arts for such elementary creatures? They were just pathetic meatbags, unable to recognize a God even when he was literally in front of them. They were useless. What could they possibly do for him, when they were so stupid to fight him?

"I don't believe you. I don't care. Go away, before I change my mind and melt you in the acid."

They took up space. HIS space, in HIS Dimension.

"You know what? First I'll kill you and your cronies, then I'll take the fiery female for me."

So why not get rid of them?

Bill settled the bow tie with a long sigh. He closed his eye and slowly opened it again: Mob K8 was still devouring Pyronica with his eyes, licking the three pairs of lips with his three tongues.

To his right, Pyronica shuddered. To his left, 8-Ball's jaw was contracted. Behind him, he sensed the silent, dangerous aura of Amorphus Shape.

He glanced at Pyronica: she could barely restrain herself, her flames blazing furiously, the same fury clear in her gaze. She was holding back for him, to not ruin his negotiation.

But if there were creatures stupid enough to tease her... well, they just deserved to die.

"Pyronica..." Bill invited her. "8-Ball... Amorphus..."

That was all she needed: Pyronica leaped forward, jumped on Mob K8 and, before he could make a sound, she stuck her teeth in his throat and tore his jugular.

Mob K8's henchmen screamed and ran away, but 8-Ball and Amorphus Shape were on them in an instant. 8-Ball tore an arm away from one of them and swallowed it whole: the creature fell to the ground and backed away, spraying blood from the broken shoulder, streams of tears mingling with his screams. Amorphus Shape pierced two other henchmen with her vines, and slammed them to the ground. They did not get up again, but shifted weakly and agonized.

Pyronica jumped on another being, twisted his arms behind his back and, with two sharp cracks, she broke them. The being let out a piercing scream, which kept going until she took his head and tore it off, creating a bloody fountain that gushed up to the ceiling. 8-Ball was ripping off pieces of legs from another creature, who was trying to run away, by crawling on the ground, a hand raised to seek help that would never come, screams of pain and tears that overlapped.

Bill watched that pain unfold before him, those full round tears, those screeching cries. He looked at his friends who, like extensions of his hands and arms, hit their enemies, bit, wounded, stomp on them. He looked and looked.

And, for the first time since the white explosion, Bill felt something, in his silent and empty form.

An insult could still be considered a joke. Two meant pushing the limit.

"I will never accept a disgusting beast like you as my leader."

Such insults meant wanting to die.

Bill crossed his legs.

"Guys…"

That one invitation was enough and Pyronica, 8-Ball and Amorphus Shape stepped over him, to wreak havoc among the enemies.

He did not need rebellious subordinates when there were thousands of other creatures ready to bend to his will. Why waste time with beings who did not want to give him anything in return?

With me or against me.

If they were with him, he would have gained something in the future. If they were against him, he would have gained something at the moment.

He looked at the blood on the floor, the green melody of the violin that covered the slow white breath. He listened to the screams, looked at the faces deformed by pain. The others suffered and their suffering gave birth to his dead form. Their pain was feeling in stillness, it was sound in the silence, it was something in the void Bill had become.

He wanted it more. And more.

And more.

“And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to oppose me, fight me and insult my trusted companions. And mortals will know my name is the All-Seeing Eye, when I lay my vengeance upon thee."

Bend over or be bent. Live or be killed.

"We accept your coming, O mighty ruler. But, please, get rid of the plague that haunts our northern territories. A frightening beast lives up there, it kills everyone who dares venture into those territories. Nobody has ever been able to come back alive: only a powerful God like you can destroy it."

Bill held out a hand.

"Deal."

Blue flames bloomed from the palm, silk-like ribbons surrounding his fingers. The Lopau put his appendix into the fire: a short grasp and the flames faded away.

There was no longer the familiar golden thread that stretched along Bill's arm, because there was no more flesh and blood in which the thread could stretch. But there was a barrier, a wall that pressed against his shape, against the strings that made him, forcing him to follow the established path.

Never break a deal.

"Thank you, mighty ruler."

Bill turned to his friends, his closest court. Pyronica was vibrating, excited. 8-Ball smiled, showing off his fangs. Amorphus Shape just blinked, placid as always.

"Should we intervene?" She asked, in her deep voice.

"Yes, immediately," Bill confirmed, adjusting his bow tie. "Let’s go."

The place was not too far away: a line of rocks marked the border between the great northern forest and the southern dwellings. Beyond the edge, there were clusters of lush plants, with gigantic green and blue leaves, next to trees with thin trunks and broad foliage.

They slipped into that jungle, going into the twilight. The huge leaves curved under their own weight, creating small shelters in which a predator could have hidden. Above them, under the ceiling made of lianas and intertwined branches, something was making a noise that sounded like a little scream.

Wings fluttered around them. Pyronica stopped and looked around, her eye sharp. 8-Ball stopped and sniffed the air. Amorphus Shape just waved her vines: the filaments at the base were tense in picking up signals all around.

Pyronica opened her mouth when the rustling became louder and a creature emerged from a pile of leaves: it was a round, white eye with two red bat wings. The eye aimed his pupil at them and shot a beam.

"DOWN!" Pyronica ordered.

Everyone threw themselves on the ground, Bill was pushed by 8-Ball. In his fall, he saw the beam pass above him, cross the point where he was until a moment before and hit Hectorgon, turning him into stone.

"No!"

Pyronica snarled and jumped on the creature, grabbed its wings and slammed it to the ground. The creature threw rays all around, petrifying lianas and branches, while Pyronica shifted left and right to avoid the dangerous beams. The petrified branches broke away from the trunks and fell, with thuds that rustled bushes, broke twigs and made other small creatures run away screaming.

8-Ball grabbed Pyronica by the shoulders and pushed her away, to avoid another ray that was coming from above. Bill looked up: four more of those "bat-eyes" had come to the rescue and were throwing rays everywhere.

ENOUGH.

He raised an arm, his fingers ready to snap...

"Stop, stop!"

A cavernous voice had spoken, all too familiar. The eyebats stopped shooting rays and all turned in the direction from which the voice had come, between the trees. With a rustle of leaves, Paci-fire emerged from the forest, four bright red eyes in the twilight.

"Guys?!" Paci-fire opened his mouth so wide his pacifier fell to the ground, leaving his fangs on display. "Are you really here?!"

"Paci!" Pyronica threw her arms around his head, rubbing her cheek against his forehead. "You were here! And you're fine!"

"I've always been here." Paci-fire looked around, his gaze went from 8-Ball, to Amorphus Shape, to Bill. "I... I thought you were dead! You weren't around here and the stupid creatures of this planet knew nothing. They just kept attacking me."

"And these?" Bill asked, pointing to the bat-like creatures.

"I trained them," Paci-fire replied. "They attack everything that enters the forest. Luckily I arrived on time, before they petrified you."

"They've already petrified Hectorgon!" Pyronica exclaimed.

Paci-fire brought his arms to his forehead: his red eyes shone and one of the bat-eyes shot another ray at Hectorgon: the gray of the stone melted and he was orange again. Hectorgon opened his mouth wide, gasping as if he had been underwater.

"What the hell happened?!" He yelled.

"Awesome!" Pyronica patted Paci-fire on the head. "And these little things are useful when they don't take it out on us!"

"Problem solved." Bill put his hands on his hips. "The scary beast was just you."

"But wh... where have you been?" Paci-fire asked, his gaze shifting from one to the other. "Where have you been all this time? After a year I lost hope and I thought you were dead."

"After a year?" 8-Ball repeated. "How long have you been there?"

"Three and a half years, after that strange explosion."

"Has it been three years since the explosion for you?" Pyronica exclaimed.

"All this time?" 8-Ball asked. "Are you sure?"

"Hasn't it been three years for you?"

"No," Kryptos said. "It had been eight months for us."

"Is it possible?" Paci-fire growled. "I had to be the one who ended up on the shitty planet, where time passes differently? I fought for this piece of land for three damn years, because it was the last thing I had after your death..."

"And you did well, because the Lotau asked for my help and we found you." Bill intervened. "But if you like this place so much, I'll give it to you! I'll give you the whole planet if you want! It's almost time: two-thirds of Dimension Zero are under my control. Once the last people are subdued, this will become my Kingdom and I'll be the Ruler."

Paci-fire focused his four eyes on him.

"Are you creating a kingdom here?"

"It'll become our new home." Bill winked at him. "Do you want to help me build it?"

No army could stop them.

The field was littered with corpses, violet blood with a nutty flavor covered the silent ground. Soldiers were lying, their clothes torn, their cloaks abandoned, and their weapons destroyed.

Bill contemplated the devastation from above, his eye half-closed to savor the sensation that throbbed within his form. He saw mortals suffer and cry, clinging to their little life tooth and nail. He saw their wide eyes asking for mercy, their outstretched hands, their bodies writhing in agony spasms.

What a sublime sight.

Someone was still moving on the field. Kryptos was the closest but he had not even noticed, considering that he was floating left and right, like a drunk. Maybe he was not even seeing what was around him. The same could be said for Hectorgon, who moved in a straight line, his lips tight, more interested in the horizon than in the sea of corpses around him.

A rustling and a groan of agony: Amorphus Shape turned and one of her vines snapped toward a soldier lying on the ground. The vine pierced his neck and, under Bill's gaze, came out of the flesh, the tip covered with purple blood. The soldier trembled: one last spasm and it lay motionless.

Bill's companions were unbeatable. The veil of immortality he had spread over them a life ago had made them invincible. Blades could not even scratch them, bullets bounced back, laser beams barely touched their figures. On Kryptos and Hectorgon, who did not fight, that power was the most powerful shield. On all others, it was an armor that made them unstoppable.

His eye fell on Paci-fire. He walked among the corpses, looking at them one by one and giving the coup de grace to whoever was still alive. The eye-bats hovered over him: an additional shield that protected him and attacked anyone who dared to get too close.

That was the third battle since Paci-fire joined them again and his contribution had been fundamental: his gaze was enough to frighten their opponents and he always hit the target. After all, he has been the destroyer who slaughtered billions on countless moons.

Noise of torn flesh and broken bones. His gaze shifted to 8-Ball, bent over an agonizing soldier. He tore one arm off, with a splash of purple blood, sat on the corpse and lowered his fangs on the limb, causing more blood to spill over his knees, on the broken chains that accompanied his every step, on the black claws.

"Still hungry?" Bill heard Pyronica ask, a trilling laugh accompanying her question. She walked with long steps and head up, the queen of the battlefield. Her bright flames caressed her shoulders and thighs with each step, tongues of fire dancing joyfully around her. She stopped nearby, put a foot on the back of a soldier and placed her arms on it: the soldier let out a thin moan. She leaned over and, with a broad smile, pulled the soldier’s head off. Then, she threw it at 8-Ball, which caught it on the fly.

"These guys are tasty," 8-Ball justified himself, piercing the soldier's eyes with three fingers, then tearing them out of their cavities and putting them in his mouth one after the other, like candy.

Pyronica laughed, amused. She reached out to one of the spears stuck on the ground, on which there was a cloak covered with blood. She grabbed the fabric with one hand and put it around her shoulders, then tied it around her neck.

"So?" Her eye moved from 8-Ball to Amorphus, to Bill. She made a graceful twirl. "What do you think?"

Bill approached. The edge of the cloak was frayed and torn in two places, the pin that closed it was a bright blue that annoyed his eye.

"Almost."

And he snapped his fingers.

He did it without thinking, following an old instinct. And the fabric reacted: the edge of the cloak repaired itself, the blue brooch disappeared, giving way to a simpler clasp. The color changed from a blood-stained black to a dazzling fuchsia: the same vibrant color as Pyronica's hair.

"Waaah!" She exclaimed, grabbing a flap of the cloak between her fingers. "That's so cool! I love it!"

Bill blinked, his gaze shifted from the cloak to his fingers, over and over again. The fingers were still bent after the snap, still devoid of flesh and blood, still just particles of energy held together by his will. Yet the cloak had changed, its color vibrated in front of him, stirred in folds while Pyronica turned it around.

I still have some power.

The mere thought was enough to make his whole form vibrate. In the void he had become, that vibration expanded like concentric waves. He had not been completely impotent, as he had believed. Hidden inside the strings that made him up, there was still a remnant of his fragmented power.

He chuckled, a trembling laugh that grew louder, more alive. He brought his hand to the top, with the other wiped a tear of mirth from the eye.

"You're... you're really cool," he said, still laughing. "You're a real general now."

"True, you look ready to lead an army," Hectorgon added.

"It doesn't seem very useful to me." Amorphus Shape narrowed her eyes. "But it looks good on you."

Pyronica turned around, the cloak moved like a wave around her. The fabric fell gently, touching the flames without being burned.

"Onwards, my brave soldiers!" Pyronica joked, pointing her finger in front of her.

"Does that mean you're the boss now?" 8-Ball asked.

"She's the boss during a battle," Bill corrected him. "Because I gave her this role. But also because she's the best." He added, shrugging.

"Always playing favorites," Hectorgon commented, with a laugh.

"You already got your presents from Bill." Pyronica stuck her tongue out. "Don't complain now, just because mine is more beautiful."

"I totally disagree," he joked, smoothing his tie with one hand and adjusting his bowler hat with the other. She stuck her tongue out again, laughing.

Bill watched them make fun of each other, still outside their amusement but no longer isolated. That thin flame of power shone within him, warming the empty cold he had become. He no longer had a physical form, he could no longer jump between Dimensions. But he could still do something. He could still react. There was still something inside him.

Pyronica laughed and the cloak fell to her sides. A bright fuchsia, proof of his power.

He was still a God.

And soon I will have my Kingdom.

Chapter Text

 ACT V - NIGHTMARE REALM

CHAPTER 31

Masses of tentacles floated in the green water, their gurgling voices spread from one side of the planet to the other.

"Imprisoned in his house, great C-3-lhu waits dreaming."

"Speaking about misleading advertising, huh?" Bill commented, moving away from the window, his hands behind the shape. "You don't look very sleepy to me."

His interlocutor sat in the center of the cathedral, on an algae-covered throne. Scarlet chains encircled his hands and feet, keeping him stuck in place. His three black eyes were fixed in front of him.

"Dream," he said. His voice echoed from one wall to another, while the tentacles he had in his mouth remained motionless. "Out."

"I know, I know, it's not good to sit there all the time," Bill replied sympathetically.

"Sleep. No."

"I agree, you need to exercise a bit. But don't stand up when you go out, or you'll crash the ceiling."

"Servants."

"Oh, your tentacular slaves bring you everything? How convenient. But I took the liberty of giving you a gift anyway: I have a couple of nice planets, with water and several creatures to eat."

"Gift."

"You like it, huh? I knew it." Bill threw a glance at the gigantic room. "Something made me guess you like water."

"Life."

"Right, you live in water. So, what do you think? A couple of planets to extend your aquatic domain, in exchange for your support. I'm giving you a special treatment."

"Special."

"... okay, fine, I'm doing it 'cause you're famous. Do you have any idea of how many people know you? And how many people have your face printed on a shirt? There are even cups and socks with your name! You’re a celebrity, my friend." He winked. "And therefore you deserve to be treated as such."

"… ruler?"

"That's the plan. Support me and I'll become the ruler of this Dimension."

"Planets. Mine."

"Yes, yes, the five aquatic planets will all be yours."

The colossal creature seemed to think about it, his tentacles floating lazily in the water. Finally, he lifted a chained arm, pulling it up as far as possible. Bill was as big as his hand, but still stretched his arm and squeezed a finger of the creature: blue flames bloomed from his hand and enveloped that of C-3-lhu, before extinguishing without touching the scarlet chains.

"You know, it's a real pleasure to finally talk to someone more classy," Bill admitted, taking a seat in the chair that had been offered to him.

The leader of the Grasshopper Demons - Jonathan was his name - was a true gentleman. He had set up their meeting outside, on the slopes of the highest volcano in his galaxy, with embroidered armchairs for everyone and slaves performing to entertain them. The first one who missed a dance step or played a wrong note was taken by the guards, dragged to the mouth of the volcano and thrown inside, as a warning to the others.

A very nice idea.

"I like beautiful things," Jonathan explained in his dry voice. "And I want my guests to enjoy the best things around me."

"I certainly appreciate it." Bill crossed his legs and put his hands on the armrests. "In many other Dimensions, I was welcomed badly. They didn't even offer me a chair."

"Such rudeness." Jonathan agreed. "It's not polite to assume that your host, just because he's able to fly, cannot be tired."

"Exactly. There's some serious disrespect in this Dimension." Bill narrowed his eye. "Especially when mortals are talking with someone mightier than them."

Jonathan turned his gaze to a slave, who had just skipped a note. The creature dropped the flute and fell to his knees, begging to be spared. Two guards took him and dragged him away.

"This Dimension is a little too much left to its own devices," he said, returning his gaze to Bill. "But education can be provided, with patience and some threat."

"I don't like to resort to strong manners," Bill replied, glancing lazily at the slave who was being dragged on the volcano. "I do it only if forced."

"From what I heard, you've been forced a lot recently."

"I was hoping the bosses of interdimensional crime were smarter," he said innocently. "They manage to escape the police, but they're not smart enough to recognize someone who's clearly above them, when they meet it."

"A really basic mistake." Jonathan cocked his head in a half bow, while raising a grasshopper's leg towards him. "And no one was left alive, as a warning to the others."

"But as you saw, it wasn't a problem," Bill replied, a hint of a smile in his tone. "The news spread anyway and you heard them."

Jonathan replied by stretching his thin lips into a smile so tight that it seemed about to break in half.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" he proposed cheerfully. "Jasmine? Mint? If you like it hot, we may put a drop of lava in the glass."

"Sounds good." Bill interlaced his fingers and placed them on his knee. "Two mint with a dash of lava, for me and my general. The others take only mint."

"I also take mint with lava." Jonathan clapped his leg and a servant ran to the tent with the order. He turned back to Bill. "You know, it's a local delicacy. When I reached this planet with my gang, we didn't know anything. We learned the techniques from the natives and, over time, we enslaved and integrated them with us." His eyes narrowed defiantly. "At first they opposed us, of course. But now they're part of our big family. We've done nothing but be patient and spend a little more time: things that a good leader has in abundance."

Bill replied to his arrogant expression with a broad, polite smile. What a pompous asshole. He dared to tell Bill how he should spend his precious time, just because he enjoyed playing the good missionary and saving everyone. Jonathan dealt with weak people, without weapons or defenses. Bill, on the other hand, had to argue with people who threw armies at him, insulted him all the time and refused to cooperate. If he resorted to killing, it was because he had no other choice.

And because seeing others suffer ignited a spark of life in his dead form.

Still, Jonathan was a clever leader, with powerful territories under his rule: if he had given support to Bill, the entire galaxy would have automatically passed under the All-Seeing Eye's rule. No need to discuss with every regent who administered the territories, no waste of time. And such a powerful ally would have been an excellent card to play with the next boss.

But Jonathan was also an asshole and, if he kept going on with that stupid story that enslaving was better than killing, Bill would have torn those grasshopper legs with his own hands.

"Are you enjoying the show, Mr. Cipher?" Jonathan asked him, with commendable kindness.

Bill glanced at the slaves who danced and played. The dancers swirled with wide open eyes and lips trembling with fear, performing remarkable acrobatics. The musicians were staring in front of them without looking at anything. Many slaves also had their lips closed by a wire.

"Why the wire?" he asked.

"It's so hard to get rid of vices," Jonathan replied. "We do everything we can, it takes time to educate the recruits on how to be good slaves. But some of them don't understand and they keep insulting us, spreading falsehoods or proposing rebellion." A subtle glance. "Killing them would've been simpler, but we would've lost a lot of manpower. Instead, by sewing their mouths, we get rid of the vice and we're left with useful slaves."

Bill replied with the same subtle smile.

What an arrogant asshole.

A slave came back, carrying a table which he placed between them. Other slaves followed, in a procession of trays, spoons, napkins. A slave folded both napkins, the next one moved to put the spoons and, behind him, Keyhole emerged.

The chairs moved, out of the corner of his eye Bill saw his companions stand up. Keyhole met their gazes, his lips parted and his eyes lit up.

"Guys?!" Teeth exclaimed, coming out from behind Keyhole. "Bill?!"

"You're alive!" Keyhole's face lit up with relief, his lips curled into a broad, raised smile, the tray trembled in his hands. "You're..."

"Hmmmm..."

Jonathan's reaction made everyone shut up. The other slaves backed off, even the generals stood. Teeth closed his teeth and hid behind Keyhole, who was as stiff as a pole. His black eyes met Bill's, a desperate plea in his pupils.

Help us.

"Do you know each other by chance?" Jonathan asked briskly.

Bill raised a hand to Keyhole and Teeth.

"These two gentlemen are not natives of the planet," he replied. "They're part of my inner circle. I’m sure it was a mistake: you saw them here, alone, and took them as slaves. I forgive you and thank you for keeping them safe from other dangers." He turned his eye on them. "Come here, guys."

Keyhole's face lit up, Teeth popped up again. Both stepped forward, smiling, and two guards blocked their way with two spears.

Bill turned his eye to Jonathan: the leader of the Grasshopper Demons leaned over to take the tea from the tray that Keyhole still held.

"Not so fast, Mr. Cipher," he said, pouring tea into his cup. He stirred it, with a wide gloating smile, clearly visible despite his low gaze. "These two have been my slaves for ten years. How can they be your companions if you got here less than one year ago?"

Bill tightened his grip on the armrests. Ten years. All that time had passed for Teeth and Keyhole. And just because he had failed to break the edge of the Multiverse.

And now he was there, dealing with a stupid mortal who, in other circumstances, he would have killed without much thought.

Keyhole was still looking at him, a silent pleading in his eyes.

"Time is a mobile matter," Bill replied, with a serious tone. "Those are my companions and I want them back."

Jonathan took a sip of tea.

"Time is really mobile," he said quietly. "In ten years, these two have proven to be excellent slaves. Quiet, gentle, helpful. I don't even need to call them anymore, because they rush to me as soon as I clap my ends." He reached out and patted Keyhole's head. "Just like two good doggies."

Keyhole became, if possible, even more rigid. His eyes widened with silent terror, the tray trembled in his hands. Although he was much wider than him, Teeth tried once again to hide behind Keyhole.

"I want my companions back," Bill said.

"We're one big family, Mr. Cipher," Jonathan continued. "We can't sell family members to the first guy who comes here and asks."

Bill tightened his grip on the armrests and the wood creaked under his fingers.

"They're not part of your family," he said. "They're my companions, whom you have captured and enslaved."

Jonathan's smile widened.

"They were your companions." was the simple answer.

Anger ran between the strings of his form, compressed his will, made his mind vibrate. With a wave of his hand, Bill threw the table on the ground: cups and saucers shattered, spoons rolled away. The teapot overturned, splashing tea on the servants who retreated.

"They're still MINE!" He thundered. "And I want them back NOW!"

Jonathan looked down at the overturned table, the tea set destroyed, the teapot turned upside down. His gaze came back to Bill.

"Since they mean so much to you, Mr. Cipher, we can talk about it." It was his calm reply. "Let's negotiate: I give you back your companions, but you must give up the idea of building your kingdom."

The wood of the armrests cracked under his fingers.

"Are you KIDDING ME?!"

"I'm not kidding." Jonathan snapped his fingers and two other guards came closer, surrounding Teeth and Keyhole with their spears. "Keep your territories and hand over the government of this Dimension to me."

"YOU DARE THREATEN ME?!"

"It's just a warning." He smiled. "I bet your kingdom isn't more important than these two little critters you care about."

"NOT MORE THAN THEM," Bill said in a cavernous voice. He disappeared from his chair in a blink of an eye and reappeared before Jonathan's face, a hand around his neck. "BUT WAY MORE THAN YOU."

Jonathan could only open his mouth, his eyes wide and scared, before Bill broke his neck.

"It could have been worse," said Amorphus Shape, dipping her vines into the river to wash the blood away. "At least two regents chose to surrender."

"Two out of five," Hectorgon reminded her. "Less than half."

"Good for us," 8-Ball replied, rubbing his shoulders. "We won't get bored."

Kryptos leaned against a log and closed his eye. The peaceful splashing of water was a pleasant background to his companions' voices. No shouting, no crying, no blood, no torn flesh. It was pleasant to have those moments of peace, between a massacre and a negotiation.

He heard a noise beside him and, when he lifted his eyelid, he saw Keyhole sitting by his side. His friend hugged his legs, staring at something before him, his back stretched.

"Hey," Kryptos said, with an encouraging smile. "How's it going?"

"Well, thank you." Even his voice was tense. "I just have to... get used to this. A... again. It's been so long since I could do what I wanted..." his arms shook and his grip tightened. "I always had to look around, because a guard could come at any moment and punish us."

Kryptos sit back straight.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Keyhole put a hand on his forehead. "I still can't believe it. We've been slaves for ten years, while for you it has been just one year."

Kryptos looked away. It was just out of luck that he, Hectorgon, Pyronica and Amorphus had been the closest to Bill and the center of the explosion. If the roles were reversed, they would have been slaves for ten years, without knowing if their other companions were still alive or dead, if Bill was still alive.

A sudden flash: Bill's arm under his hand, that magnetic field that pressed against his skin, the sparks of electricity that made his fingers tingle, Bill who moved away from him, looking at him like a caged animal.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

Keyhole ignored his reply and turned to watch the others wash themselves from the blood. Teeth had also taken part in the massacre and was cleaning himself carefully between his teeth, while talking to Hectorgon who was on the shore. Pyronica and Bill were not there: they had gone to talk with the fourth regent. Perhaps, once he learned that the leader of the Grasshopper Demons had been killed, he too would have surrendered to Bill. And it would not have been necessary to shed even more blood.

"So many things have changed," Keyhole commented. "I never imagined that Paci-fire would be able to train other creatures." He shook a hand. "I thought he was more the "killing anything in front of me" type."

"The eye bats were a surprise for us too," Kryptos agreed.

"And I like Pyronica's new cape."

"A gift from Bill."

Keyhole's shy smile froze.

"Everything good?"

Keyhole looked down.

"If I ask you something, Kryptos, will you tell me the truth?"

"Of course."

"Does Bill hate me?"

"What? Of course not!" Kryptos shrugged. "How could you even think that?"

Keyhole pulled his legs closer.

"When I told you all how it was with the Grasshopper Demons, two days ago," he said. "Bill was standing outside the circle. Quiet. And he looked at me, but he wasn't..." He swallowed. "He was staring at me, with an angry look. He was looking at me and it was as if he wasn't there but, at the same time, he was there and he was hating everything about it." He looked at Kryptos. "It was the eye of a madman."

The eye of a madman. The distant memory of a world in flames, of the first time he had seen the color blue, of a silhouette of golden light holding out his hand.

"Enjoy the show."

"You know it." Keyhole looked at him from top to toe, his mouth open and his brows furrowed. "You already knew."

"Bill has never been an ordinary creature," Kryptos replied. "He always had a spark of weirdness within. Yet in billions and billions of years that we know each other, this has never been a problem to..."

"Now it's different," Keyhole interrupted him. "It's not the same."

"What do you mean?"

Keyhole sighed.

"Bill was always happy before and bragged about his powers all the time. Do you remember when he fought Time Baby? Or when he wanted to throw the infinite-sided die on Ucron 9? Or when he found out that he could jump through the Ninth Dimension? He always loved to challenge himself and he always had fun while doing it."

A shiver ran through Keyhole, his eyes lowered and he tightened his grip around his legs.

"Now he's cold and gloomy," he continued. "He's using a lot of energy in this Kingdom project of his, but he doesn't care and it's just a pastime. He's bored. And he is very, very bloodthirsty."

"But n..."

"It's obvious, Kryptos," Keyhole interrupted him. "Bill has always killed, but he didn't stop to... morbidly look at people when they died. You saw him, with the supreme leader of the Grasshopper Demons: he stared the whole time, with that insane look, until the leader lost color." He winced. "Bill was captivated by that, he couldn't look away." Keyhole shook his head. "He wasn't like that before."

Kryptos turned his gaze to their companions in the river, who sprayed water on each other. Their voices and laughter were miles away, muffled to his mind.

"He did the same with everyone," Kryptos replied, slowly. "I didn't realize he had changed so much."

"It's probably because you've always been together, so it was very gradual for you," Keyhole replied bitterly. "While Teeth and I, who have been away for ten years, immediately noticed the difference."

Kryptos tightened his hands. The memory of their arrival in Dimension Zero came back again to his mind, into an infinite loop: Bill escaping his touch, his angry and frightened gaze, how he had avoided their eyes, how he had decided out of the blue to create a kingdom right there.

"I didn't ask for your opinion. This WILL BE my kingdom. PERIOD."

It was not just "a bad mood" as Hectorgon suggested. It was something very different.

"It was that white explosion, wasn't it?"

Kryptos looked up again: Keyhole's expression was more bitter than ever.

"That's what changed him," he continued. "It took something away from him, made him more unstable. And now it's as if there's another Bill, angrier and gloomier than the one we knew." He hid his mouth behind his raised knees. "I want the old one."

Kryptos put a hand on his shoulder.

"Maybe it's only temporary," he comforted Keyhole. "It'll pass, sooner or later, and Bill will be the same as before."

"And will we get out of here?"

"Of course," Kryptos added. "Now we don't have to look for anyone else anymore, we're all together again. So nothing holds us back here, except Bill's desire to stay." He shrugged. "Maybe he'll make this kingdom first, since he's working so hard to do it, then he'll get bored and, after a couple of centuries, we'll go somewhere else."

A shy smile lifted the corners of Keyhole's mouth.

"I hope it's like you say, pal."

"Guys!"

Bill's voice made them both turn: their other companions were out of the water and surrounded both Bill and Pyronica, who just came back. She was removing an invisible speck from her cloak, while Bill floated above her head, his hands behind the form.

"How did it go?" asked Amorphus Shape.

"Tectorian pledged allegiance," Pyronica explained. "We didn't even have to convince him, he did everything by himself."

"Ablistus not," Bill continued. "He swore revenge for Jonathan and said he'll send his army." He narrowed his eye. "We'll go to him first, so he won't even have to leave his place, to get killed. Are you ready to face an army?"

"No problem." 8-Ball ran a hand over his shoulder, dropping the remaining water droplets.

"Will there be many?" Amorphus Shape asked again.

"All those Ablistus will send to die," Bill replied. "No mercy as usual. I don't need rebel slaves." He raised his fingers. "Are you all ready?"

Keyhole sighed.

"I hope it's like you said, Kryptos." He loosened his legs and got back on his feet, then held out a hand. "Let's move closer, otherwise we might be left behind."

Faced with the choice between surrender and fighting, the fifth regent also chose to fight.

"YOU WON'T GET AWAY, CIPHER! MY BEASTS WILL AVENGE THE SUPREME LEADER!"

There were no soldiers or servants on the battlefield, but green and purple creatures, as tall as mountains and with legs as wide as buildings, which made the ground tremble with every step. They had no eyes or mouth and their bodies were only massive rectangular shapes, with a top covered with trees and patches of grass.

Kryptos' gaze was captured by one of the largest creatures, a purple giant who walked faster than the other beasts: his feet were so large, that if he had crushed him, he would not even have noticed.

"Are those the enemy's army?!" Hectorgon yelled.

"This doesn't change anything." Pyronica showed him back. "Leave it to us."

"I'm ready," Teeth joined her, gritting his teeth.

"Me too," 8-Ball said. Paci-fire grunted, then followed Pyronica who was already walking head-on towards the enemy.

Kryptos glanced at Bill: he was still behind. Amorphus Shape was beside him, staring in front of her, slowly waving her lianas.

"Do I have to intervene too?" She asked, without taking her eyes off the beasts.

Bill didn't answer. Kryptos shifted to look at his eye and saw it wide open, fixed on those creatures, mesmerized, not entirely present, but...

Beyond?

Bill moved. He left Amorphus Shape behind and slowly floated towards the four who were already going. His arms were loosened by his sides and he floated calmly, barely swinging.

Pyronica and the others stopped. Bill passed them and rose higher, meeting the huge purple creature that Kryptos had noticed. As the beast approached, Pyronica's flames burned brighter.

The beast came within a meter of Bill. 8-Ball and Teeth took the position, ready to jump. Paci-fire already had his hands on his temples, ready to send his eye-bats. From her position in the back, Amorphus Shape raised the tips of her lianas to the same height as her central eyes, aiming at the creature.

Bill, on the other hand, did nothing. He stood motionless watching the creature get closer and closer: a small two-dimensional Triangle, nothing more than a dot of yellow light, compared to the beast.

When he was just one thin step away, Bill raised a hand. Not stretched to throw laser beams or to pour flames. Raised to touch.

What does he…?

Under their astonished looks, the creature approached and pressed its squared muzzle against Bill's palm, rubbing against it.

Silence fell on the battlefield. The other creatures stopped, Pyronica's flames decreased in intensity, Paci-fire let his hands drop from his head, Amorphus Shape lowered the vines and blinked.

"What is he doing?" She murmured, perplexed.

Bill started to giggle, satisfied, while with his other hand he stroked the back of the creature, who kept rubbing his muzzle against his palm, like a big dog.

"Who is a good terrifying monster, huh? Who is it? You are! Good boy, my little abomination! Good, good..."

"Uhm... Bill?" Pyronica asked.

"What a big softie you are! Who's the one who creates earthquakes just by walking? You, yes, you are! Give me the paw... good boy!"

"I can't believe it." Hectorgon raised a hand to his mouth: his ends were lifted into a smile.

"Did he just train him or am I the only one who's seeing this?!" Keyhole asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Bill...?" Pyronica insisted.

Bill looked away from the beast, towards the enemy regent who was still in the rear, as shocked as all of them.

"It looks like I won, Corik!" He shouted, in his direction. "Your army has just passed under my command! Do you have anything else to send against me, or are you giving up?" And, without waiting for his answer, he patted the muzzle of the purple creature.

The beast tapped one foot on the ground twice: all the other beasts turned as one being and marched toward the enemy. The regent screamed and ran away, but the beasts kept walking, directed toward the horizon.

The only one left was the larger one, the purple creature that Bill was still petting.

"Where are they going?" Pyronica asked.

"Towards the cities," Bill replied, still caressing the creature. "They'll take care of cleaning this place... hey, guys!" He added, turning to Amorphus Shape, Hectorgon, Keyhole and Kryptos, who were left behind. "Come here!"

"I can't believe this is happening." Hectorgon approached first, crossing his arms. "You just adopted a pet. You. You. The craziest and most irresponsible creature in the Multiverse."

"Oh, shush," Bill silenced him, lovingly stroking the beast. "He doesn't need food, just a lot of space to run and play."

"Is he harmless?" asked Amorphus Shape, floating around the beast and touching it with the tip of her vines.

"Of course!" Bill exclaimed. "Look at this big, soft expression!"

"He has no eyes," Hectorgon pointed out.

"Neither do you, but I'm not shaming him because of this." Bill said. "Xanthar is a good friend."

"Xanthar?" Kryptos repeated. "Is this his name?"

"I just gave it to him!" Bill exclaimed, hugging the beast even if it were a huge dog. "Look at him: isn't he lovely?"

"He gave him a name, it's over." Hectorgon raised his arms. "Dad gives up."

"Mum approves!" Pyronica yelled, excited. "I like him! Can I teach him to step on the enemies?"

"He will step on everything you want." Bill stroked his giant muzzle with his eyelashes. "Right, Xanthar?"

And Xanthar, just like a good dog, bent towards Pyronica and let himself be caressed.

Chapter Text

ACT V - NIGHTMARE REALM

CHAPTER 32

It was almost over.

The Grasshopper Demons were one of the last three powerful reigns left, in that Dimension. After the death of leader Jonathan, three-fifths of the whole race had been wiped out, while the remaining two-fifths had passed under Bill's control and become obedient servants.

The two remaining powers were the Lavalamp Monsters and the Shyrv's race. The first ones were already on his side: their prince appreciated Bill, praised his way of doing things and, according to rumors, he had even celebrated when Bill had killed Jonathan of the Grasshopper Demons.

Shyrvs were different. Allies of the Grasshopper Demons, they did not appreciate the murder of the old leader, nor did they approve of the idea of having one ruler for the entire Dimension. It was too vast for one being, divine powers or not. What would become of their freedom then? If Bill was a fickle God as they described him, what would have prevented him from waking up one day and killing everyone, just because he wanted to?

They had to oppose him. And since they were the last ones left to have some influence, they would not give up without a fight. If they managed to remain independent, others would follow. If they kept their independence, they would have shown that Bill could not take whatever he wanted. If they hadn't bowed, they would have shown that the god was fallible.

How naive.

"I know we don't get along very well, Orkel of the Shyrv, that's why I came here." Bill gave him a polite bow, then pushed towards him the box of gems that he brought as a gift. "I hope that after this meeting, we'll be able to understand each other better."

A general reached out to the box, murmured something and touched it with the tip of his glove: he nodded and the lid was raised, revealing its glittering content. Many of the generals leaned over to look at the gems, their tones so shiny that their singing vibrated through Bill's dead form. Even some servants dared to lift their eyes from the ground and take a look at that treasure chest.

Only Orkel did not look. He kept his elbows on the table, his index fingers joined in front of his white lips, his three eyes fixed on Bill and parted in a frowning expression.

"Okay, apparently introduction time is over." Bill sat in the chair facing Orkel and crossed his legs. "What's the most urgent question you want to start with?"

"You know very well what I want," he replied icily. "We Shyrv don't support your one-kingdom project, nor do we think you would be a suitable leader. Your behavior is unpredictable and unreliable and jeopardizes everyone's safety."

"What do you think I should do then?" Bill asked ironically, shrugging.

"Ruling over your territory." He replied. "You have one and we think it's big enough. Rule over your part of this Dimension and leave us alone."

Bill put his elbows on the table and joined his hands under the eye.

"But I can't do it, Orkel!" He replied, with fake regret. "I already have a dozen slaves working on my throne of optical illusions. I can't tell them to stop and dismantle everything! They're more than halfway, it would be a lot of effort wasted for nothing!"

"Are you so sure that we will bow down to you, to build a throne already?" Orkel's gaze was even angrier, his hands clenched into fists which he slammed on the table. "You're wrong, because we will never bow down to you!"

"Calm down, calm down." Bill raised his hands. "Let's talk. What do you want, to accept me? More territories? More gems? More resources? I can give you anything you want."

"We don't want anything from you."

"I see, material things don't matter to you. So what about a longer life? Dying at ninety isn't so great, especially if you have many regrets. Would you like to live for, I don't know, another hundred years? You would have time to take some extra whims. You could learn other professions, travel further, hit that woman you always liked. And maybe I can also slow down the aging process, so you can climb that mountain you've never managed to climb!"

"Do you really think you can convince us with these promises?" Orkel raised his head. "There are no benefits in making a deal with you. We won't be fooled by your beautiful words."

"Oh, I see." Bill leaned against the back of the chair. "So you like to live up to ninety years, working in your cubicles to the death, with the constant fear of the Time Police. You won't explore your Dimension, because distances are too long and you would die long before arriving. Your dreams will remain just dreams because you won't be brave enough to make them come true. And the woman of your dreams will marry someone else." He rubbed under the eye. "If that's what you want..."

A couple of generals shifted uncomfortably. Orkel did not move.

"As you wish, free to choose the most miserable solution," Bill continued. "I just wanted to do you a favor! I wouldn't have gained anything, by giving you a longer life. You would've been around for more years, that's all. But if you want this..."

"We don't accept," Orkel repeated. "It's useless to insist. The answer is always no."

Bill sighed.

"Seriously, I don't understand why you think so badly of me." He raised a hand. "Talk to the people who are already part of my kingdom: you can do it because, unlike the former leader of the Grasshopper Demons, I haven't shut their mouth with wire," he added, sharply. "They'll tell you what it's like to live under my rule. And you know what? They have a good life and keep doing whatever they like. If they want to study, they can do it. If they want to travel, they can travel, they have no limitations or boundaries. Everyone is free to do or say what they want. The only thing I asked them is to pledge allegiance." He leaned on the table. "And, if you really have heard about me from other people outside this Dimension, then you will also know that all the civilizations that I visited are rich, powerful and famous."

"Until you left them to themselves," Orkel replied. "And then they collapsed because you had not left them the tools to prosper alone. They were counting on you and once you got bored of them, they died." Orkel tilted his chin up. "This dimension may be one of many others for you, but for us it's home and we won't let you lead it to self-destruction."

Bill sighed.

"Still shifting the blame on me," he replied. "Have you ever thought that maybe the ones to blame were the people themselves, who chose incompetent rulers over me? On the other hand, do you want to know what happened to the Dimensions that didn't get my interest?" He leaned an elbow on the table. "Poof, consumed by flames." He gave Orkel a sharp look. "You should be thankful that this Dimension caught my interest so much, it doesn't make me want to set it on fire."

The corners of Orkel's lips curled slightly upwards.

"We would never let you do it."

"Oh really?" Bill asked, with ironic tenderness. "Will you stop me with your little spears or with your cute laser rifles?" A chuckle. "I don't think you understood who you're dealing with: the fact that I came here talking to you in person, sitting at this table like a mortal, doesn't mean that I am one. I can burn down this room with all of you inside, the city around and the entire planet with a single wave of my hand." He shrugged. "I don't do it, just because I don't want to."

"No," Orkel replied, "You don't do it, because you need our support. We Shyrv occupy one-third of Dimension Zero: if we don't support you, you lose control over a third of the universe. On the other hand, if you wipe us, your faithful servants will no longer see you as a kind god. That's why you're here to talk to me."

Bill stopped smiling and joined his fingers under his eye.

"Don't make it difficult, Orkel," he said. "We can do this hard or we can do it easy."

"You have no power over me," the Shyrv leader replied. "I will never give in to your manipulations and your threats don't scare me. Do you want to kill me? Go for it! This room is full of witnesses! Do you want to kill them all? The entire meeting is being broadcast live across the Shyrv domain. And if you exterminate all Shyrvs, your subjects will know what happened!"

Bill stood up.

"I came here looking for a compromise, but I can't find any, if there's no opening on the other side," he declared, looking at him angrily. "I gave you a gift, offered money, fame and a long life and you refused everything. I don't think I'm the one wrong here. I want to unite this Dimension in one realm, thus making it truly free from everything and everyone. I've offered your people to become rich and powerful like my people. You want to keep them isolated, divided and enslaved under your power."

"You are still twisting the truth to your advantage," Orkel replied, looking him straight in the eye. "By freeing people from all laws, you make them unable to control themselves and cause chaos and disorder to arise. By giving them uncontrolled riches you make them more and more greedy, to the point they'll start to devour each other to have more and more. And in the end, when you'll get tired of this place and you'll leave it to itself, what will remain will be a corrupt and uncontrollable world, where people kill each other for a piece of bread and nobody is powerful enough to rule over others!" His gaze became as hard as steel. "You're not a god, nor a savior. You're a demon and a destroyer of worlds. And I will never bow down to you."

Orkel's three eyes were dark and cold, his chin tilted up. Nothing scratched his firmness, not a single doubt cracked his voice. Bill clenched his hands into fists. That pathetic mortal dared to fight him with such strength. How did he dare to have such willpower? How did he dare to question Bill's power? How did he dare to DENY something to Bill?

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

Anger screamed inside him, at the center of his swirling form. Kill him. His hands quivered. Kill him. The strings held together by his will thickened, strengthened, trembled against each other. KILL HIM.

But he could not, not like that. Not with the whole Shyrv race watching him. Not when he could lose everything, wipe out everyone and remain-

alone

in a too-tight cage.

"You made your choice, Orkel of the Shyrv," Bill said, turning his back on him. "Do what you think. Let's go, guys, we're not welcome here," he added, addressing his companions. Pyronica raised one perplexed eyebrow but obeyed, stood up and the others followed her out, without a single word.

When he reached the threshold, Bill turned: Orkel was still sitting, rigid and cold, the treasure chest always abandoned to the side.

"I hope you won't regret your decision," Bill said in a sugary tone. He gave him a finger gun. "Oh, and by the way: nice hat."

Without adding more, he turned again and went out, closing the door behind him.

Pyronica had her arms crossed and was looking at him in silence, waiting for an explanation. He gestured for her to move with one hand and the others to follow with his right.

"So? Are we leaving like this?" She asked, half-mouthed.

"Yes, my dear," Bill said. He brought his hands behind the shape, meeting her pink gaze. "This will be the last speech Orkel of the Shyrv would ever make."

And, by looking into his eye, Pyronica understood and smiled in turn.

The following morning, Kryptos was awakened by a chaos of voices that filled the entire villa. the sound of footsteps came from the upper floor, a rumble of voices from the lower floor. He sat on the bed, rubbing his sleepy eye: he noticed a lot of servants running in front of the open door of his room. Their footsteps were rapid and they all muttered in different languages, the discussions overlapped in an incomprehensible confusion, from which only a few orders emerged.

What's going on today?

He turned to the window: more hum came from behind the ivory curtains. Was there some anniversary he had forgotten about? Something related to star cycles or something about the planet they were on?

He rose high above the pillows on which he had slept, and floated to the window, then moved aside the curtains.

The first thing he saw was Bill's throne. The main square of the city was about ten kilometers from his position, yet the throne was huge, a colossus towering over the houses that surrounded it, ten times larger than them. When Kryptos had gone to sleep, the night before, half of the back was still missing and there were optical illusions on one side only: at that moment, however, the throne was complete and the illusions covered it, creating a kaleidoscope of abstract figures that passed from monochromatic to color, merged, changed the structure of the throne itself, by making it appear more squared or more rounded, with more or fewer dimensions, invisible or impossible, throne and more.

Kryptos put his feet on the windowsill and leaned over, one hand on the window frame. His gaze shifted from the hypnotic sight of the optical illusions, to what surrounded the throne. He expected to find hundreds of creatures who had worked on it, all the groups who had moved stones, painted and hoisted materials day and night, taking turns every time a group was tired. And he saw them: creatures of different races and colors, tiny dots in green suits. But they were scattered in a sea of thousands of other creatures, who crowded the square to the corners, massing together and under the throne.

And others were still coming: an endless flow of different creatures from every planet of Dimension Zero was filling the streets and converging on the throne. Smaller creatures who moved in groups, criminal bosses who pledged allegiance, generals with their armor and armies in tow, tentacular horrors floating in midair. Kryptos also recognized a delegation, led by the Prince of Lavalamp Monsters, followed by a group of colossal quadrupeds like Xanthar.

They were all there. All the peoples who pledged allegiance to Bill, all the allies he had made in that year and a half of negotiations, all the armies that had supported him, the enemies who surrendered and had been spared. And they all spoke to each other, regardless of race, as they walked towards the throne, eager to see their ruler.

The breath stopped on his lips, his legs trembled. It had finally happened, the day had come. Bill finally had his kingdom and his people. Kryptos turned to the door: did he already know? Had he already seen the crowd gathering? Was he ready? What would he say? Well, he had been the god of many people for millennia, finding the words did not have to be too difficult for someone like him. But did he know? And the others, did they know too?

He flew away from the windowsill, heading straight for the door. Before he could reach it, a red figure appeared in the doorway.

"You're awake!" Hectorgon greeted him. He had a newspaper in his hand and an astonished smile on his lips. Have you heard it?"

"If I heard it?!" Kryptos raised a hand to the window. His voice was shaking, his shape bubbled, excited. "I've seen it! They're everywhere!"

"I'm not talking about them," Hectorgon replied, putting the newspaper under Kryptos's eye. "I'm talking about this."

As soon as Kryptos lowered his eye, the first thing he read was the tile, in large letters:

"ORKEL OF THE SHYRV IS DEAD."

Cold overwhelmed him, wiping excitement away. Kryptos took the newspaper in his hands and turned to Hectorgon with his mouth wide open. He glanced at the crowd and their presence no longer seemed so miraculous.

All those people were not there just to see Bill. Those were not servants, who came to see their ruler. There were allies and enemies. And they were ready to start a war against each other.

"He killed him..." he murmured.

"Read it." Hectorgon tapped the page with a finger. "It wasn't Bill."

"What?!"

"It was one of the generals: they found the weapon in his house, still covered in blood. And the treasure chest Bill gave Orkel as a gift. The general tried to defend himself, but he started to fight with the other generals who came to arrest him and, according to the article, he started a fire that killed everyone." Hectorgon dropped his arm. "In one night, the entire Shyrv ruling class died. The only one left is an underminister, who spoke with Bill at dawn and pledged allegiance to him."

Kryptos was even more surprised.

"It's impossible."

"I know." the smile widened, his voice astonished. "He organized everything. Orkel was killed by deep cuts, too deep for a sword."

"Pyronica..."

"Then they stained the sword with blood, brought it to the general's home along with the treasure chest and spread the rumor that the general was the culprit..."

"So the other generals went to check."

"And once they were inside..." Hectorgon snapped his fingers, in a gesture they both knew too well.

Kryptos lowered his gaze to the article.

"He did everything in such a short time..."

"And there's no evidence or witnesses that can link him or Pyronica. Both of them were here all the time, everybody saw them and they never left. At dawn, when the underminister arrived, Bill was still partying in the ballroom. The newspapers said it was a coup, which turned against the generals." Hectorgon burst out laughing. "Every time I think he's not going to make it, he gets what he wants!"

"It was so stupidly risky!" Kryptos brought a hand to the top. "There's no way everybody believes it! Many people will still have doubts..."

"Sure, but there's no evidence," Hectorgon replied. "Orkel was burned according to the Shyrv custom, so nobody can check on his body. The generals are all burned in the fire. If people think Bill is innocent, they’ll see him as the god who was destined to rule. If they think he's guilty, then they’ll see him as a cunning assassin, powerful enough to control the media and the politic. Either way, he won." He turned to the window. "And today is the day of his triumph."

Kryptos looked back at the streets crowded with creatures and voices.

"How many do you think will have read the newspaper today?"

"Everyone, no doubt," the Hexagon replied. "Otherwise they wouldn't be here."

The door opened again. Kryptos and Hectorgon turned: it was 8-Ball.

"Are you ready?" He asked. "We have to go."

"Where?" Kryptos asked.

8-Ball merely lifted his arm and pointed to the throne.

He had not seen the throne up close during its construction, so Kryptos had no idea that there was a staircase surrounding it. The steps, two meters wide, were made of huge iridescent plates, arranged one on top of the other to form a pyramid, with the throne of optical illusions on top.

It was strange to walk in line in front of the crowd, but he just followed 8-Ball who was leading: even if he stared straight ahead, out of the corner of his eye Kryptos was still able to notice the gazes of all the people and to hear their murmurs, both admired and frightened.

"Bill Cipher's Henchmaniacs."

Only four or five nations had used that title, referring to them. But now that all people were gathered, those words flew from mouth to mouth, from race to race, adopted unanimously as a title to designate them: the inner circle, the court of Bill Cipher, the loyalists.

8-Ball stopped on the highest step and each of them occupied a step, on one side or the other of the throne. In front of him, Kryptos had Amorphus Shape: unlike him, she looked around with placid interest, making her gaze wander over the crowd as if she did not have everyone's eyes on her.

The mere thought of doing the same made his legs wobble, so Kryptos turned to the throne instead. From a distance, it was much taller than the houses, but up close it was even more huge. He had to lean back to be able to see the top and the seat was so wide that Xanthar's whole race could have sat on it.

Speaking of him... Kryptos shifted his gaze in front of him, at the opposite end of the steps: the one above Amorphus was empty, there was no trace of Xanthar and Bill had not yet arrived. He turned to his right, where Hectorgon was suspended on the bottom step, his arms behind his back.

"Where are Bill, Pyronica and Xanthar?"

"You know Bill." Hectorgon raised a corner of his mouth. "He's a diva, he likes to be fashionably late. I bet he's still in his room, getting ready to be more dazzling than ever, with Pyronica giving him advice."

As soon as he stopped talking, heavy footsteps caught their attention: Xanthar had arrived. He stopped on the last step, the widest one, and turned the huge muzzle without eyes or mouth towards the crowd. The front row backed away frightened, leaving a short clearing. The murmurs increased, whispers about "The Being Whose Name Must Never Be Said" reached Kryptos, even if he was three steps higher. Xanthar ignored everyone and instead bent his muzzle towards Keyhole, who was giving him a friendly pat on the leg.

The murmurs in the crowd rose again: Pyronica appeared behind Xanthar, vibrant in her neon pink. She passed him, the cloak swaying behind her, and then turned her back on the crowd and started to climb the stairs. Her chin was tilted up, her lips folded into a satisfied smile and her flames shone brightly, tongues of white fire animated by fuchsia shades.

Pyronica reached the last empty spot on the top step, on the other side from 8-Ball, and all the murmurs died away. Perfect silence fell on the crowd, the whole planet seemed to be holding its breath. Everyone looked up and, following the direction of everyone's eyes, Kryptos saw Bill floating above the throne, his gigantic figure gradually lowering.

Once he sat down, Bill put his hands on the armrests and crossed his legs. He had enlarged his shape, to occupy the whole throne and thus be seen by those who were further away. Silhouetted against the optical illusions of the throne, his golden figure stood out even more: a vision of equilateral perfection, straight edges that contrasted with the twirls of the illusions, the immaculate surface opposed to the chaotic confusion of the throne, the symmetrical attention of the bow tie opposed to the irregularity of the shifting images. He looked like a perfect ideal, more perfect than any other figure, symmetrical and stable in the dizzying confusion of the throne, the anchor to hold on to, the light to turn to.

But that was not the only reason why everyone was looking at him. Something else caught everyone's attention, something which was floating lazily, half a centimeter from Bill's top.

He was wearing a tall, narrow top hat, as black as the bow tie. A hat that Kryptos knew, because he had seen it, just the day before, on the head of Orkel of the Shyrv.

"Oh, and by the way: nice hat."

Cold surrounded his arms and legs. Bill was sitting still, watching the crowd, challenging it. Kryptos turned: the crowd looked back at Bill, standing still in turn. He recognized the bright armor of the soldiers, two of the former generals of the Grasshopper Demons. He recognized the underminister Shyrv and many groups of other Shyrv scattered among the crowd.

He clenched his hands, pressing his fingers against his palms. It was so stupidly risky: Bill was testing his power, his influence, his kingdom. The Shyrv would rebel, recognizing the hat as proof of guilt. The Grasshopper Demons would support them in the name of old alliances. The Lavalamp Monsters would intervene, to support Bill. A war would have broken out there, before their eyes, inside the town's square, involving soldiers and innocents.

But the Shyrv were still looking at Bill, without changing their expression. The underminister was unfazed. The armies of the Grasshopper Demons just lowered the banners, which they had held up. Kryptos turned to Bill: his eye was looking all around the crowd, the black pupil was blacker and deeper than ever, as deep as when he looked between Dimensions.

He's checking. The thought struck him with glaring clarity. He's checking that nobody wants to rebel against him.

The long analysis ended in the same, perfect silence. Then Bill blinked and raised his arms from the throne.

"Today is the beginning of a new era," he thundered, with a firm and determined voice that reached the city limits. "Today a new life begins. Forget restrictions and rules! Forget the laws that made you enemies! Now you are all united! Now you are one people, in one kingdom. An invincible kingdom, which nobody can ever conquer. And I will be your Lord forever!"

And Bill laughed.

A deep laugh, so deep to make the earth tremble, the air vibrate, the stars quiver. A laugh that increased in volume, rising above every other voice, covering the entire planet. Bill raised an arm above him, as if to touch the sky, while the other grabbed the arm of his throne.

And, before their eyes, colors began to bloom. In the white and blue sky, a spiral was born, which widened in multicolored bands to the ends of their gaze, to the ends of the world. Red and green and yellow stretched over their heads, made the creatures raise their noses and arms, accompanied by exclamations of wonder. Red and yellow merged into orange, rolled into a spiral, dissolved again in red and yellow, met blue, green, black. A moving palette, colors that were not only such, but that vibrated and... and seemed to play. It was a confused melody, a crazy cacophony, colors that seemed to slip into their hands, caress their eyes, that seemed to hesitate and leap, that seemed to live a life of their own.

Hectorgon yelled, a whisper compared to Bill's thunderous laughter, which Kryptos could hear only because they were close. He was pointing to the throne and Kryptos saw that other colors flowed from the armrest under Bill's hand. Colors already seen and colors never seen flowed like water along the iridescent steps and widened in the town's square, making many creatures jump on the spot, while others bend to touch the ground, almost expecting the color to stick to their hands.

And then again heads rose and, before their wide eyes, the light began to change. The simple white light from the nearby star changed, taking on a golden tone. The two moons that revolved around the planet changed color too, their gray surfaces became red and green.

A huge black band passed in the sky and everyone saw the universe around, the usual black carpet dotted with stars.

Except that it was no longer black. The universe itself was crossed by bands of color in constant movement, on which the galaxies were different lights that moved in the opposite direction. And among those lights, scattered in space, there was something never seen before: bubbles of a single color, as large as planets, which floated very close without being attracted by its gravitational force.

His legs trembled. Kryptos looked down and saw only color. Color and more color, everywhere, which still overflowed from Bill, from his hand on the throne, from his arm stretched towards the sky. It was a lot, it was too much, it was chaos, there were thousands of voices talking, there were bands pressed on his eye, restrictions around his arms, a fabric that filled his throat and suffocated him.

Is this? Kryptos wondered, swaying. Is this what he feels?

"CELEBRATE THE KINGDOM OF ALL-SEEING EYE!" Bill thundered, in a voice that was the voice of the whole Dimension. "CELEBRATE THE BIRTH OF THE NIGHTMARE REALM!"

The crowd knelt: some creatures threw themselves on the ground with their arms raised, others bowed more slowly, their bewitched eyes turned towards Bill, who laughed and laughed, filling the entire Dimension with his colors. Xanthar bent over on all fours, crouching on the ground. Keyhole and Teeth fell to their knees, awe in Keyhole's face and in Teeth's wide open mouth. Paci-fire bent over one knee, 8-Ball on both. Amorphus Shape lowered on the ground and folded the lianas, her five eyes wide as the first time she had met Bill, towering above her.

Kryptos' eye returned to Bill, who kept laughing, who kept pouring changing, shifting colors, who showed his synaesthesia, who was changing the entire Dimension with his pure will.

Is this?

Even if the white explosion had changed him. Despite... whatever he had become, he still had power. And it was not the usual power to burn everything or make small things appear. It was a complete transformation, as he had never done. He was changing the fabric of the Dimension itself.

He remembered the first time he had had a taste of Bill's powers, when it was just him, Hectorgon and Pyronica and Bill had transported them out of the bar, only to blow him up. In that distanced look, in his silhouette against the background of burning flames, Kryptos had caught the first sign of the abyss, had looked at the surface and sensed that there was an unimaginable power underneath.

And now that power was unfolding before him. Centuries had passed, Bill had changed, but he was still so powerful.

Pyronica bent over one knee. Hectorgon took off his hat and lowered himself to the ground, his lips parted in silent admiration. Kryptos also touched the ground, his eye always focused on that incredible creature, on that incalculable power.

His legs bent and Kryptos slowly knelt.

Is this what one feels before a God?

Chapter Text

ACT V - NIGHTMARE REALM

CHAPTER 33

The Nightmare Realm responded to his requests.

Colors never stopped, they kept moving and changing constantly. The melody of red dominated along with the ringing of yellow but, at any moment, a new sound slipped into the concert, a new instrument emitted a couple of chords: sometimes it faded immediately, sometimes it hesitated for a longer time, permeating the music of a new, different, always changing sound.

A simple walk, floating from one galaxy to another, was enough to feel the flavor of millions of different foods, mixed in a banquet of contrasting perfumes, on a table with millions of textures. His lifeless hands were able to grasp the difference between several textures, his dead tongue savored the flavor of that banquet of colors, his empty form managed to change the world around him.

He was a dead star, but still able to change gravity around him. He was an electron in perpetual quantum uncertainty, which had managed to leave a tangible mark. He was pure energy that had found a medium to pour himself into. He was the lord of chaos who brought chaos to the order.

From a distance, he saw Pyronica, a dazzling pink shape against the red and black background of the universe. Her figure was a discordant sound, compared to the melody that surrounded her. It was music that moved differently, outside the concert that took place around him and for him, who had him at its center, God and Almighty Lord, surrounded by the perfection of that dancing chaos.

All other inhabitants of the planet, all other creatures, were discordant and familiar sounds. The Dimension itself warned him of their movements, depending on how the music changed, how the colors moved. When he reached out and created new bubbles of pure madness, the song of the Dimension distorted itself, to accommodate that new instrument, that new color.

He also started to create separate spaces, devoid of any meaning or purpose, just for fun. Some were found by his companions in their wandering through the Dimension, others remained known only to him and died in silence when he got tired of them.

The Dimension always satisfied him, the colors vibrated in harmony with his desires. The structure of matter changed around him, moved, created optical illusions, mixed music and flavors. The Nightmare Realm was an extension of him, its space was his colossal cloak and, in the movement of the flaps, the Dimension changed.

No restrictions. No rules.

His friends, his Henchmaniacs as they were called, looked at him with adoring eyes. After centuries and centuries of travel, they now had their own home, a perfect house free from the rules, where the party never ended and everyone was happy.

Bill laughed and his laughter echoed in the Nightmare Realm, giving new life to the relentless melody.

Since transforming the entire planet Onve into a huge Cosmic Sand fountain, much of the party had moved there. People plunged into it, some stood open-mouthed under the jets and drank, encouraged by the others. From his position at the top of the fountain, Bill saw their little silhouettes swimming in the blue and purple sea of the Cosmic Sand, he saw the beings lying on the edge of the fountain, too drunk to even stand up. Only a couple of creatures were able to come out standing on their legs, although unstable, and left, heading for some other planet to continue the party.

"You were here."

Amorphus Shape had appeared at his side. Her vines swayed, as if under a light wind.

"How does the party go on, at the borders?" He asked.

"Still wild," she replied. She lowered her eyes to look at the creatures celebrating and drinking in the fountain. "They set up a drinking contest on Verev and Pyronica won narrowly over Paci-fire. So they started a pyrotechnic fight and burned half planet, but I was getting bored and I took a ride, so I don't know how it ended."

Amused laughter and shouts came from the base of the fountain, together with the splash of Cosmic Sand.

"Do you want a drink?" Bill offered, pointing at the fountain.

"I drank a lot at the drinking contest," she replied calmly. "I had to take a ride, to clear my mind a little."

"You're not drunk."

"I know, I just absorbed the nutrients." Amorphus Shape lifted the blue tip of one of her lianas, turning it over in front of her eyes. "How much Cosmic Sand should I drink, to get really drunk?"

Bill thought about the answer when something attracted his attention. The colors around were vibrating differently, their scents were stronger, their music dissonant. He turned back: the dissonance came from a specific point and the scent currents had carried it to him, informing him.

Another random object? The Nightmare Realm warned him when random things entered, junk coming from the rest of the Multiverse that ended up in his kingdom by chance. But this time the warning was still vivid, the sound was too dissonant, the colors kept vibrating.

"What's up?" asked Amorphus Shape, her voice low, her shape tensed for the fight.

"Somebody's here." Bill got up from the fountain and floated in the direction from which the dissonance was coming. Amorphus Shape followed him.

"Who?" She asked him.

"Somebody from the outside."

"From the Multiverse?"

The vibrations grew stronger, as they approached the epicenter of the interference. Perfumes surrounded Bill, pulling him to the exact point.

It was a planet - H89 if he remembered correctly. There were about forty creatures, lying on cushions the size of buildings, which sucked in smoke from long decorated pipes. One of them exhaled and the smoke took on the appearance of an orange tiger, who jumped behind a green boat, exhaled by another creature.

The only figure out of place was a spot of silent gray, the only being standing and without a pipe, whose head was facing smokers. Bill came closer and the creature turned around, then widened his eyes at his sight and backed away, tightening his grip on the bag he wore tied to his belt.

"You're in the Nightmare Realm," Bill welcomed him. "The Kingdom of the All Seeing Eye. What brought you here, Friedrick?"

The creature jolted, surprised to be called by name.

"I ... I was running away," he said. "From Time Police. They wanted to put me in the Infinitentiary again." He tightened his grip around the bag. "Better death, than coming back to that place! So I jumped through the portal and..." he looked around. "I ... I thought this was Dimension Zero, the Multiverse's garbage dump. There was no life. I knew there was nothing. And I thought..."

"That you would've died of starvation? That's your lucky day, Friedrick!" Bill exclaimed. "No death for you! Dimension Zero is under new management! Now it's called Nightmare Realm and it's my kingdom."

"Your... what?" he looked at him from top to toe. "Who are you?"

"Bill Cipher, nice to meet you," he introduced himself, touching the tip of his hat. "All Seeing Eye and Lord of this place."

Friedrick was amazed.

"The Dream Lord?" He stammered. "Your... your legend has been handed down in my people for generations! Only the chosen ones will be visited by the Dream Lord, who will give them wisdom and power." He looked at him again from top to toe, enthusiastic. "And... and also in the Infinitentiary! There were prisoners thousands of years old, who talked about the All-Seeing Eye! His bounty is the biggest ever in the Multiverse because his power is equal to that of a God." He looked at him again, this time with eyes full of admiration. "Is that... is that really you?"

"It's me!" Bill replied. "You did well to go through that portal and come here." He raised a hand. "Now you're one of us. Join the party! You're free to do whatever you want! Time Police will never come looking for you here."

Friedrick bent down to touch the ground with his forehead.

"Thanks for everything, o mighty All-Seeing Eye."

Bill waved a hand and two of his people rushed, took the newcomer and dragged him with them to celebrate, among colored fumes and endless music.

After Friedrick, other creatures arrived in the Nightmare Realm.

At first, they ended up there by chance, just like Friedrick. Some decided to stay, became part of his colorful people and joined the party, praising and worshipping the All-Seeing Eye. Others, after celebrating and thanking the host, took their leave, promising loyalty and telling other races about him.

And they did: the seconds who arrived knew him already. They heard stories about him, tales of the God at the center of the universe, whose court danced with him and for him in an infinite party. They were curious travelers who stopped for a while, joined the party, experienced it and then left.

Creatures that came, creatures that left. And the party went on, without end.

Always the same.

He found an empty bare space, a planet abandoned by all its inhabitants, who went to celebrate who knows where. Everyone enjoyed drinking and smoking, everyone took part in the competitions, everyone danced, everyone laughed, everyone talked. Everyone was happy. And Bill also enjoyed watching everyone have fun.

For a thousand years.

All he had to do was snap his fingers and the planet was surrounded by rings of flame and ice. Bill passed them and went towards the heart of the planet, among the rotating gas clouds: color bloomed around him, red and yellow, a long blue band started from his feet, reached the gas core and transformed it into a shiny oval chair.

Bill sat down and raised his arms: the winds around him became thicker, the color covered them, drawing arabesques. By pointing his finger, he created little lights, fake copies of the stars.

Everyone kept having fun out there: they were laughing, enjoying being alive: they had every reason to celebrate. But not him, he was just a spectator. He could not experience that delicious boost given by adrenaline, that blurring of the senses due to alcohol, the melting sensation of all muscles that smokers felt, the acute signs of pain, the flowing drops of water on his shape, the bubbling of serotonin that made things truly fun and laughter more sincere. He was an empty box, a silent form, a ghost visible only because of his own will.

What did he have to celebrate? Nothing. What was there to celebrate, when he was just a bunch of strings barely held together? Nothing. They should have stopped that stupid party: how long has it been going on? Were they not tired yet, after a century of celebrating all the time?

Bill slumped against the chair, sulkier than before. Nobody could understand him, not even his companions. They too had reason to celebrate, after all: they too were alive, they had blood flowing in their veins, bones, muscles and flesh. They could hug each other, shake hands, hit each other, drink and eat and savor everything. They could not understand what it meant to look at the happiness of someone else and feel within themselves only emptiness. They were not empty like him.

"Bill? Bill, are you here?"

Bill jumped and clung to his chair. Through the streams of color, he saw a black silhouette: Pyronica.

"I'm here."

Bill closed his eye shut and tightened his grip on the chair. He wanted Pyronica to come in. To float beyond the barriers and come there, to see him in the chair and ask him "What happened?". He wanted her to be kind and understanding and to say "It doesn't matter, we're still your friends, we're here for you and we'll always be by your side". He wanted her to bring him out, to touch his hand without being afraid of what he had become, to be a perfect and wonderful friend and that everyone would say only the right things.

But he also didn't want her to see him at all. He wanted her to go away, not to understand that he locked himself there because he was empty and dead, because he no longer had a physical form. He wanted her to leave without suspecting anything, to stay loyal to him, to say nothing to anyone. He wanted that everyone would stay there and never leave. He wanted to still be their leader.

"Bill?"

"I want to be alone," he said. His voice was unfazed, his eye closed.

He wanted her to come in. He wanted her to go away.

"Why? What happened?"

“Because I no longer have a physical form. I'm no longer alive. And I hate it."

Why did she ask questions? What did she have to say about his decisions? She had to mind her own business! He was GREATER than everyone, including her! She just had to work for him and shut up! Go away, go away, go away, go away GOAWAYGOAWAYGOAWAY!

"Nothing," he replied in the same tone. "I want to be alone, that's all."

"O... ok. Fine." A short silence, which stretched to infinity. "And... for how long?"

GO AWAY!

"As long as I feel like it. You can go."

Bill snapped his eye open, his pupil fixed on Pyronica's silhouette. He remained frozen on the spot, divided between letting her enter and shouting at her to go away until he ran out of breath, solidifying his position of God and his respect.

She did not have to know he was bored. She did not have to know he wanted to leave, but he couldn't do it.

"Okay," she said. "If you need anything... just, call us."

Her black silhouette became increasingly smaller, until it disappeared.

The thirds who arrived were different compared to the firsts and seconds.

They had not ended up in the Nightmare Realm by accident, running away from danger and thinking of finding death. They had not come there, because it was just one stop of their long journey. They had come there on their initiative, knowing what they would find there.

They had come to look for him.

Bill crossed his legs and relaxed against the back of his chair. There was no point in taking refuge on a planet and surrounding himself with barriers, if someone new came to talk to him every day. So he returned to his palace, among the half-empty rooms: at least he could welcome the visitors to his study, in front of a desk, ready to talk about business.

There were two visitors that day: both dressed in black, with a fedora on their heads and thick cigars between their teeth, accompanied by two bodyguards each. Jef and Jor, the two most wanted gangsters in the Multiverse in the past twenty years, experts in illegal multidimensional transfer. Precious stones, money, cursed or forbidden objects, living creatures: they had transferred everything, everywhere.

But they were not there to transfer anything.

"We're here to give you our support, Bill Cipher," said Jef, getting straight to the point.

Bill picked up his martini glass from the desk.

"Support me?" he repeated. He leaned against the back of the chair, twirling the alcohol.

"The Time Police aren't too happy with the situation here," Jef explained. "There are too many criminals altogether, and if someone wants to hide, it comes here. Your coming made them even more furious: it was difficult to enter Dimension Zero before, because there could've been hidden criminals everywhere. Now it's impossible to enter because you are there and you can't be faced."

"They aren't happy with it," his brother Jor continued. "They want to control all Dimensions and they don't like that there are others in charge. Well, there are also a lot of useless, less important people here and there, like the people who say that no, you're an evil demon and you can't rule over anything..."

"We disagree," said Jef, in a more calm tone. "We've seen your power."

"This?" Bill raised a hand. "I just did some redecorating. This was a boring Dimension before! It was missing a little bit of color, so..."

"Not this," Jor interrupted him, waving a hand. "We're talking about the White Light."

The voices fell, colors died out and all that was left was static gray. Bill's hand fell back on the armrest, the room disappeared, the two gangsters disappeared. There was only a black streak without stars. An opposing force that rejected him. Hands made of flesh and blood. Fingers covered with golden power. A smooth glass surface. White. Black. Ash that became less than ash. Dots of stars. Scream.

"All the Multiverse has seen it." Jef's calm voice penetrated through the static surrounding Bill. "It lit the sky of all Dimensions, from one end of the Multiverse to the other. It was so powerful, so incredible that it couldn't have been natural. Someone must have done it. And that someone could only be an exceptional creature."

The static subsided, colors rose again, the room came into focus, little by little. Jef and Jor were looking at him, their eyes burning with admiration.

"It was similar to the power of a God," Jef continued. "That light was... it was a challenge. Wasn't it?"

"Yes." The voice rose from the center of himself. Bill blinked. "Yes," he repeated, more convinced.

"You can overcome him," Jef insisted. "That light proves it. You want to go further, don't you? You can do it, we're sure you can do it." He held out his hand. "And when the time comes, we want to be on your side."

Bill looked at his outstretched hand. He looked at the two bosses, at their fierce looks.

"You can count on us for anything," Jef offered.

There was no lie in that voice, his expression was sincere: they wanted to collaborate with him. The white explosion must have really scared them. And, since they were just mere mortals compared to him, they decided to side with the powerful God, instead of hindering him.

They were not part of the Nightmare Realm, they did not risk anything, but they had been far-sighted enough to come in person to keep him sweet, just in case. They were smart, for being just a couple of smugglers.

Being the All-Seeing Eye is still worth something.

Bill left the empty glass on the desk, reached out and shook the boss' hand.

Chapter Text

ACT V - NIGHTMARE REALM

CHAPTER 34

"We're more inclined towards the idea of a... destruction, rather than a creation." A subtle glance. "If you know what I mean."

He was the third criminal boss who came to see him, in just one month. And seriously, maybe Bill was missing something. He thought those criminals came to offer their help only out of fear, because he was the All-Seeing Eye, the Destroyer of Dimensions, the Lord of Knowledge and his fame was known everywhere.

But he was already the third guy to mention the explosion: the "White Light" as they called it. It had been remarkable, sure, but they did not use it as a mere example of his power, but rather as a key piece of evidence. Evidence of something he had not understood.

"I know very well," Bill said, then took a sip of Cosmic Sand. His interlocutor turned his back again, tapping the aquarium with his finger: this time the moray eels turned, opened the eyes scattered all over their bodies and started wagging their tails.

"This Multiverse needs a revolution," the boss spoke again. "It's the same old thing: respect the laws, do the same things, never cross the line. But who decided to draw the line at that point? One of us?" He turned to Bill, shaking his head. "No. It was the God of the Multiverse who did it."

Bill took another sip. The God of the Multiverse?

"I see."

What did Axolotl have to do with it now?

"But why should the line always remain fixed?" The boss asked, walking towards the desk. "Why can't we move it? The boundary of our freedom is so narrow that we can barely move inside it. What if we want to widen it a little bit? Just take a couple more liberties?"

"He wouldn't agree at all," Bill replied, rolling his eye. " He's a know-it-all and he thinks he knows what's best for everyone."

The boss put his hands on the desk.

"Exactly," he confirmed. "Don't you think it's unfair? We're treated like babies when we're perfectly able to figure out for ourselves what's best for us." He laughed. "We're all adults, here! The time when we had to ask for help from our parents is over! We can buy what we want, we can have an interdimensional business and we also take responsibility for our actions... if the Time Police catch us," he added, winking at him.

"If," Bill repeated, raising his glass. "How many years on the run? Twenty-five?"

"Twenty-six this year." The boss picked up his glass and touched Bill's, before taking a sip. When he lowered it, his eyes were sparkling. "I see we agree on the idea of changing things."

"I am always down for changes," Bill said.

The boss held out his hand.

"To change," he declared.

Bill emptied his glass and shook his hand.

"The God of the Multiverse established everything. But we want to make our own decisions. We want to be free to choose what to do and how to make mistakes."

"That's right," Bill supported him. The weight of his own failure and choices pressed against his empty form.

"We've been guided for billions of years by a distant God, who doesn't listen to us and who doesn't pay attention to our needs. He only establishes rules and laws. Laws that oppress and constrain us."

And Bill, tight in the noose of laws and closed in his cage, understood their frustration.

"The God of the Multiverse created too strict rules. In the past, when we were more simple and stupid, those laws could work. Now we evolved: we're clever and mature. Before we were children, now we're adults and we need much more. Isn't that what happens, when kids grow up? They want more things. Have you ever wanted something more, Cipher?"

"Me?" Bill looked at his glass. "I just wanted freedom."

"Exactly! Freedom: isn't it our first need? The desire that unites us all? By growing up, we all want to get out of our parent's protection and be free to explore! But how, how can we explore if we're blocked by laws on laws? What are our true limits? We don't know, because the laws prevent us from going further. What can we do and see? It's always limited because the God of the Multiverse has established we should have a life and a death and we could never see everything. Before we could accept it and be happy about it: but now we're adults. And we want to be treated like it."

"Urgh, even just his name reminds me of restrictions and limits. The Multiverse is like this, because the Axolotl decided it. We live and die, because the Axolotl decided it. Everyone has their own destiny and must suffer the consequences of their choices and bla bla bla. All because a God woke up one day and decided that he must give us rules. Well, we don't want them anymore. It's time for a new era."

"We hoped for many creatures, but none of them were really powerful. We supported the Tentacular Monster, but it just went after a couple of Dimensions and ignored others. There was also a really powerful demon, who opened an incredible rift through three Dimensions, but then Time Baby pulverized him. Despite this, we kept waiting and looking and hoping, because we knew some really powerful creature would arrive, sooner or later."

The wanted man bowed to Bill.

"For centuries it hasn't come," he continued. "But now it's here."

"The White Light was the crucial signal. The symbol of the challenge and the rebellion against God. No common creature could ever have done such a thing, not even Time Baby can unleash a similar power, to show it to the whole Multiverse! Only an exceptional creature could do it. One able to compete with God."

"Your power, Bill Cipher, can compete with the God of the Multiverse. Your power can oppose the Axolotl. And we think you can also surpass him."

"Why stop? Why hold you back? We all support your challenge and we're on your side. You can overcome the power of the Axolotl. And when you do it, there'll be no need for Gods anymore."

"No living thing has ever had a chance against him. But what you did... yes, you are strong enough to do it. You can destroy him."

"We realized it immediately, from one side of the Multiverse to the other. The time of revolution has come and we want to be on the winning side. When you’ll destroy the Axolotl, we'll be with you."

They had gathered in the main square, at the foot of his throne of optical illusions. Criminal bosses from all over the Multiverse, with the most important members of their gangs. All beings with whom he had made agreements.

Bill put his hands on the armrests.

"I am always in favor of changes," he began. "You've seen how this place has changed since it was known as Dimension Zero: the Nightmare Realm is now free under my domain, everyone can do whatever they want. There are no restrictions, no rules. The Axolotl is a know-it-all, but I'm not like him. I prefer chaos and freedom. This is what I promise you."

And his allies cheered.

"So... do you really want to destroy the Axolotl?"

Kryptos was clasping and unclasping his hands, his eye turned to a corner of the room. Bill turned his back on him and reached a window: a couple of creatures walked quietly on the street, met a smuggler who was talking to someone via communicator and each went their way.

"Do you know about him?" Bill asked instead.

"You told me about him," Kryptos replied.

A red band passed in the sky and everything became tinged with the memory of a distant fire, in a dark cave, with unknown travelers who welcomed him into their circle, when Bill still did not exist and he was a gray shape like all the others.

"We were preparing ourselves for sleep.”

"And what do people think here?"

"The stories aren't very different." Out of the corner of his eye, Bill saw Kryptos approaching him and looking from the window. "They call him "the God of the Multiverse" and they say he created everything, from galaxies to grass blades. They say he's a good God, who wouldn't harm anyone and who protects travelers from dangers." He turned to Bill: his eye was worried. "He’s not a bad creature."

"No," Bill replied, shrugging. "He's a know-it-all."

Kryptos raised an eyebrow.

"Your allies say you're the one who will destroy the Axolotl," he continued. "But he's pretty harmless. He's not like Time Baby, you have nothing against him. And no one has ever seen him around: they just talk about him. Maybe he doesn't even exist."

"Oh no, he does exist."

"Then maybe he's shy," Kryptos ventured. "That's why he doesn't show up."

Bill sighed.

"You don't see him around, because that smartass has more than ten Dimensions." He replied, rolling his eye. "He keeps to himself, too busy being cute and all he does is look. Then, if he feels like it, he helps and we can have a chat."

"So he's harmless...?"

"I wouldn't say "harmless"," Bill replied sullenly. "But he's an okay guy."

He leaned against the window frame and grabbed his arms.

"I should hate him," Bill murmured looking at the sky, its pink and blue bands so similar to those of the Axolotl's Dimension. "But I can't. He's the only one who always gave me the opportunity to choose. He never forced me to stick to one path. Even if free will doesn't exist, he lets me do whatever I want, no matter if it's right or wrong."

"But what's left is that you are free to choose, Bill Cipher. Do whatever you want."

"Wait... did you talk to him?!"

Kryptos' voice passed through the layers of memories. Bill turned: the Square looked at him with his mouth open, his eyebrow still bent in a puzzled expression.

"Yes," Bill confessed. He let go of his arms and raised them in front of him. "He's the one who gave me these powers."

If possible, Kryptos was even more shocked.

"W... what?"

"That last night in prison," Bill continued, looking him straight in the eye. "I called for his help. And he gave me the power to free myself."

Kryptos raised a hand to his top.

"But then... why do you want to kill him?"

"Did I ever talk about killing?"

"But... your allies..." Kryptos stammered.

Bill put his hands behind the form and looked at him. Kryptos answered his long gaze, waiting for an explanation, just waiting... until comprehension made its way into him, his pupil widened, his lips parted.

Bill turned to the window.

"Bill..." Kryptos' voice overflowed with concern. "It's dangerous."

"It's not like I lied." He shrugged. "I just said that I don't completely agree with the Axolotl and that I prefer to do things my way. And they supported me anyway."

"But if they realize you don't really want to kill him..."

"The deals have been made," he replied. He turned to Kryptos, looking at him with a sharp gaze. "The criminal bosses promised me their help, every time I’ll need it. They cannot back out of the deal: once it has been sealed, it must be respected until the end." He shrugged again. "I don't owe them nothing, I have no obligations. I never said that I would "kill" the Axolotl. And even if I wanted to do it, I can't reach him. It's my allies' fault: they never asked what I really thought, nor did they force me to do what they want."

Kryptos sat down in one of the chairs opposite the desk, his hand still holding the top.

"Why are you doing these dangerous things?" He complained. "If they found out the truth..."

"They couldn't do anything anyway, I'm much more powerful than them." Bill smiled at him. "Relax, Kryptos. I am the best merchant in the Multiverse, I never lose out."

Chapter Text

ACT V - NIGHTMARE REALM

CHAPTER 35

Criminals from all over the Multiverse kept coming, looking for Bill. Many came just to talk, have a drink and went back to their business. Only a few extended their visit and wandered around the Nightmare Realm: they talked with its inhabitants, made some deals, enjoyed the party and, in the end, they too left.

The newcomers did not speak of Bill as a lord of knowledge or a dream demon. Bill was the one who would destroy the Axolotl, who had rebelled against the order and who would have created a new one.

Until that day, they wanted to be on his side.

Kryptos crossed his arms. From his position on the edge of the town square, he could barely see the center, where everyone was still dancing and playing. Among the multi-colored heads, he recognized the bright pink one of Pyronica and, looking further down, the bright turquoise of Keyhole. They were at the fourth dance in a row and still overflowed with energy, cheerful and carefree as ever.

In contrast, the thought passed to Bill, locked in his palace or who knows where, alone and gloomy, avoiding the party he had wanted so much. It was not like him to behave like this, it was not good for him to brood about who knows what sad thoughts. But Bill was stubborn and if he wanted to be left alone he disappeared or sent anyone who disturbed him away.

Kryptos remembered his golden shape, the side gently resting against the window of his study, his hands on his arms.

"The Axolotl gave me these powers."

Bill hadn't forbidden him to talk about it, so he could have told the other friends as well. But Kryptos could not: his mind could barely understand that thought, accept those words that kept repeating in a loop.

"He's the only one who always gave me the opportunity to choose."

He remembered a long-dead Dimension, in which there were only bubbles and ribbons of color floating in a black space: he was sitting on a bubble, with a very young Bill beside him who had just begun to dive into the sea of his powers.

"That's what I wanted. To know everything and to see everything. Now I can do it."

He remembered one of the many burning Dimensions and Bill holding out his hand, inviting him to join them in the hexadimensional leap.

"Where do your powers come from?"

He wondered about that tens of thousands of times over the centuries. Were they the result of a desire, a dream, a miracle? Were they the result of a magical astral conjunction that had hit Bill, among billions of others?

"There aren’t so many creatures endowed with powers like his, in the Multiverse." Hectorgon had told him millions of billions of years earlier, inside the bar where they found Pyronica. "Did you think those powers he has are a common thing?"

They had stopped asking themselves, in the end. They got used to it: Bill just had them. Occasionally he discovered a new power that made their journey more interesting, but it was all. They were just there. And even asking seemed useless: all of them had known Bill with his powers, they had never seen him without.

Except for Kryptos. He was the only one who had seen him as he was before. Before being a God, before having those powers, before calling himself Bill. He had known him when he was still a mortal Shape, locked in a prison and as helpless as anyone else in the Plane. He was the only one who never forgot Bill was not born with those powers but had acquired them.

"That last night in prison, I called for his help. And he gave me the power to free myself."

A distant memory, a Triangle of golden light, a silhouette against the gray and blue background of a burning flat world.

"I told you I’d find a solution to the problem."

For millennia, Kryptos had no idea how he did it. He had always wondered what happened that last night, after leaving Lelx alone in his cell. After running out of his tears, after confessing that he could never save him. He had felt so helpless on his way home, so useless, so fragile in front of the overwhelming power of the system...

"Hey."

Kryptos blinked: the distant image of a kitchen bathed in light frayed, the figures inside the room became opaque silhouettes, the touch of a soft hand became wind. He turned, blinking in the explosion of colors that surrounded him, and saw Hectorgon at his side. His red was brighter than ever, his mustache of an intense black, the turquoise of his tie was a blinding light bulb.

"Hey," Kryptos greeted him.

"Why so worried?" The Hexagon asked, a corner of his mouth stretched upwards. "Don't you like music? Lioh has become a huge swimming pool: if you want, you can go for a swim there and relax."

"Maybe later," Kryptos replied, with a drawn smile.

Hectorgon shifted his invisible gaze in front of him.

"This party is lasting too long, isn't it?" His voice was calm, with a hint of fun. It reminded him of the early days, when it was just the two of them, Pyronica and Bill. "It's no longer as fun as it was at first."

"True," he confirmed. "But I don't want to be a buzzkill. The others are still enjoying it."

"The others are kids," Hectorgon replied. Even without having eyes, that tone made it clear that if he had them, he would have rolled them. "The more they play, the happier they are."

Kryptos held back a chuckle.

"You once said I was a kid too," he shot Hectorgon an amused glance. "While you were the only adult."

"And you told me I was too old to be part of the gang."

"Hey, that's not true!" Kryptos elbowed him, laughing.

"Right, you were just amazed that I was still alive," he replied, with a broad smile.

Kryptos also smiled.

"I didn't think you remembered it."

"I remember everything." Hectorgon crossed his arms and leaned his back against the wall, next to Kryptos. "Did you feel melancholic?"

"A little bit," he admitted. "It was simpler, back then. There were no... realms or people or deals with criminal bosses. We were just a bunch of friends who wanted to explore the Multiverse."

The music stopped for a moment, the instruments changed. A new melody started, even more cheerful than the previous one: everyone welcomed it with enthusiasm, Pyronica first, and started dancing again.

"Does Bill really want to stop here?" Hectorgon asked, breaking the silence.

Kryptos remembered Bill, his hands clasping his arms. He remembered that same arm under his hand, when he had touched it and felt just a magnetic field opposing his touch.

"So it seems," he replied. "At least for now."

"Why?" Hectorgon asked again. "He doesn't want to join the party, nor he's interested in stopping it. What's he doing here? Watching the others celebrating while he stands in a corner, alone, depressed and angry?"

"I know he shouldn't." Kryptos shrugged. "But he's stubborn and if he decides something..."

"He does what he wants," Hectorgon completed in his place. He sighed. "If he just told us why he's depressed and angry, we could do something to help him."

"He'll tell us, only when he wants."

"As always."

"As always."

Another sigh.

"He's not in a position to lead a kingdom," Hectorgon said. "He should enjoy some peace and quiet with us, and let off steam by taking all the time he needs. Instead, we never see each other, he's always surrounded by people who call him and now there are also these criminal bosses. Do you remember the last time we chatted, all nine together? And no, I'm not talking about when we found Xanthar, because we talked for twenty minutes. I'm talking about a real chat, for hours."

Kryptos bit his lip.

"After Amorphus Shape."

"Exactly." Hectorgon smoothed his mustache with a worried expression. "Since then, we haven't had a friendly chat anymore, which lasted for at least an hour. We talked to each other and in groups, but not all nine together. How many times has Bill taken part in our conversations since we arrived in the Nightmare Realm? I'll tell you, not even one. Bill is never there and, when he talks to us, they're really short conversations, or he's letting us know of his plans and ordering us to do something." He turned to Kryptos. "We no longer talk together. Bill rarely talks to two of us at the same time. The last time I spoke to him it was just me and him, last week. We talked for half an hour and it was an exchange of information: he wanted to know what was going on at the borders, if we had solved the problem, if someone was involved and how things went on. It wasn't a chat with a friend: it was a soldier's report to his general." He rubbed his arms, uncomfortable. "And I'm not a soldier, neither is Bill my general."

"I'm sorry."

Hectorgon shook a hand.

"I hope that, at least with you, he keeps talking and not exchanging information." He pursed his lips. "You're right, you know? It was easier before. Bill was vain and stubborn, but at least he liked being with us, while now he avoids us."

Kryptos looked down.

"I'm really sorry," he repeated. "I would like to tell you that I know why he does it, but I don't know either." He shrugged. "I wish it was as simple as it once was."

Hectorgon supported him in silence and the music filled the space between them, the laughter overlapped their sad thoughts.

"Hey." Hectorgon clapped Kryptos on his back, with a sparkle of liveliness. "It's no use if we both get depressed too: let's have some fun. If we clear our minds, maybe we'll find a way to lighten up the mood of our All-Seeing Eye." He raised his thumb behind him. "Let's go to Lioh. I bet Amorphus Shape is still there: she's been living in that pool for three days. Xanthar was close by the last time and, if we stay long enough, I bet the others will come to dive." His smile widened. "We'll have a nice chat together. What do you think?"

Kryptos gave him a shy smile.

"I think it's not a bad idea," he replied and let Hectorgon guide them to their destination.

From the window of Bill's study, Kryptos could see the whole city. The last time there were just three people on the street, one of whom was just a visitor: at that moment, the streets were overflowing with different creatures. Some moved with the rush of a worker, others paused to look at the shop windows, others stood in front of the open shops.

"Many are back," Kryptos commented cheerfully. "And many others have moved here: I don't remember all these Shyrv and Zalogre here before. Even the stores reopened almost everywhere!"

"They finished celebrating, then?"

Bill's tone froze the smile on Kryptos' face. It was surly, with a hint of bitterness and an aftertaste of boredom. Kryptos glanced at him, but he only saw his back and his hands pressed on the windowsill, on the sides of his shape.

"So it seems." He tried to smile again. "It wasn't necessary to stop them or tell them to go back to work: they did everything by themselves. Convenient." And let out a short laugh.

On the other side, a cold, impassive wall answered him. Kryptos stopped laughing: compared to the previous time, Bill was much more surly and distant. Kryptos had thought that, perhaps, after revealing the origin of his powers, he would have vented more and said something else: but perhaps Kryptos overestimated his luck.

"I haven't seen other new people around," he continued, trying again to start a conversation. "But there are several new criminals: yesterday we saw the new bounties put on by the Time Police and there are at least another one hundred and two that..."

"How do people behave?" Bill asked instead, ignoring his words. "Are they happy?"

"Uh? Oh, sure," He replied. "In a couple of planets, they established that there will always be a party, so anyone who wants can go there and have fun. They like that. And, of course, they're grateful to the Lord of the Nightmare Realm who allowed all of this."

Silence. No vain replies from Bill, no satisfied giggles, no arrogant and proud eyes.

"And what about the others?"

"They're... they're back here," Kryptos murmured. "They go out to check the Nightmare Realm every now and then."

"Do they have any problems? Are they fine?"

"It wasn't a chat with a friend: it was a soldier's report to his general. And I'm not a soldier, neither is Bill my general."

"Why don't you ask them?" Kryptos asked, before he could stop his words. "They're your friends too. You can talk to them."

"Because I'm busy. " His voice cracked the glass and Kryptos backed away from the window.

"We can help you," he tried, in a conciliatory tone.

"Help me by checking the borders."

"We're already doing it..."

"Then keep doing it."

No, no, it wasn't right. Kryptos wanted to talk with Bill, not bugging him. And he definitely did not want to report to him, as if he were his soldier.

"What about a break?" He proposed. "Thirty minutes, not one second more. We can go to the Quadrangle of Qonfusion. I saw it yesterday: it's really beautiful, one of your best creations." He smiled. "We'll have a small walk, look at the galaxies for a little while, talk about the latest news from the Multiverse..."

"Kryptos." Bill's tone, although firm, did not have the same anger as before. "No."

"Um... maybe later?"

"No," Bill replied. "Thanks, but no. I don't want to go out."

But you must. You can't stay locked in here forever. It's not like you to be locked in one place and be so surly.

Kryptos pursed his lips, preventing those words from coming out. Bill no longer seemed as annoyed as before, but neither willing to open up.

"Now go," Bill said. "I want to be alone."

It was not an angry, annoyed or cold order. Just a firm and determined one. As stubborn as he was.

What can I do?

There was not much to do in that situation. Kryptos just turned around and left, leaving Bill alone as he asked.

As soon as he closed the door, he heard a click: Bill no longer wanted to be disturbed. Great, more isolation: just what he needed.

With a sigh, Kryptos walked down the corridors, passing in front of the high windows. The multicolored light lit the equally colored streets, reflected through the shiny glass and designed bands of light on the floors. A world touched by Bill's hand, invested with his power, which however gave him no joy.

All the other times, in billions and billions of years, when a place bored him, Bill left. He left the planet that disappointed him, abandoned the people to themselves, and burned the Dimensions that had nothing special. This time was different: he had stopped there, colored the Dimension, modified it to make it strange and weird. He had invested time and energy to subdue everyone to his will, to create an unbeatable kingdom and then he started a party that went on for years.

Still, the Nightmare Realm didn't make him happy.

Centuries ago, before discovering that they had only explored a fragment of the entire Multiverse, Kryptos had wondered what would happen when Bill would have reached its end. After visiting every Dimension, talking to every civilization, destroying all that was boring and letting only strange and different things be reborn... what would he do? Where would he go?

Kryptos reached one of the windows and sat on the windowsill. Once he feared that the Multiverse would not be enough for Bill. But now that Bill had locked himself in that large prison, as strange and colorful as he liked, Kryptos wondered if Bill would ever take his gaze outside the borders of the Nightmare Realm.

END OF CHAPTER 35

END OF ACT V - NIGHTMARE REALM

Chapter Text

ACT VI - DIMENSION 46’\

CHAPTER 36

"Then it's settled: we reconfirm the previous deal with my ancestor and I pledge unconditional allegiance. I also offer you the Or family alliance for this entire generation, until the title of head of the family will pass to my successors, and for the generations to come." A little bow. "In return, you'll give me enough knowledge to make the family business thrive for the next millennium."

"Perfect." Bill held out a hand to the young Or. "We can reconfirm the deal."

"Are there any problems with this little addition?"

"Not at all," Bill replied. "But if your successors want to keep it like that, they'll have to reconfirm it too, when they'll come to me to renew our deal."

The new head of the Or family bowed again. He was young even by mortal standards, a thin little creature who had recently reached adulthood. But he had studied every detail of the first deal between Bill and his ancestor and had carefully chosen the words with which to make that request. After all, why be an ally of the Lord of Knowledge, if he could not have some of that knowledge in return?

For Bill, it wasn't a problem: a pinch of knowledge, in exchange for unconditional help whenever he needed it. And the kid hadn't even brought up the idea of many of his other allies, who wanted Bill as the one who would destroy the Axolotl. Even better.

"I'll make sure that this addition won't be forgotten." The young Or smiled at him. "Thank you for your kindness, All Seeing Eye. And for telling me about my ancestor: it was very pleasant."

"Teha Or was one of the best traders," Bill replied. "I think you'll become like him, boy."

"He was a visionary, that's why he managed to create a business that has been going on for billions of years." The young man looked at his hands. "I hope to succeed in at least half of his work. For now, I'm visiting all our contacts scattered throughout the Multiverse." His voice took on a more lively turn. "Last year I was on Rodenthus for the first time and it wasn't what I expected at all. People told me about the beaver beings, but I didn't think I would find so many, since they're still a young race."

The boy's thoughts shifted. The family photos, his mother's smile, his brothers opening boxes, the study cluttered with papers, the large portrait of Teha Or above the fireplace, everything vibrated, changed color and shape. Instead of the familiar images, new ones arose in his mind: images of a green world, with giant trees and beaver beings circling him, sniffing the air.

"Then I visited Lohren and I went to Lottocron 9, which was nearby. They're on the opposite side, compared to your Dimension," the young Or continued, giving Bill a polite nod. "Lohren has changed his policy and now everything must be green: I don't know how they distinguish food from inedible stuff, but at least their packages can be recognized at a glance. Lottocron 9, on the other hand, is wonderful as always. I attended a wedding while I was there."

Streets of glistening green vibrated beneath his feet. Fragrant mint with a spicy flavor dripped from the facades of the buildings. At the golden entrance to the casino, a woman in a white dress with a red sash at the waist, identical to the same red sash that played deep notes on her hidden eyes.

"The next destination will be Dimension 14/: I have a couple of contacts there, right on the edge of the event horizon. They bring me materials of the highest quality."

A new world, an unknown world, huge cities with very high towers, built on the event horizon of a colossal black hole, its black popping around.

"Then, of course, the Great Hiskal. I've already been there two years ago, but there's a new boss now and he's an old friend, so we'll have to review the agreements to make them more balanced."

A blue, clear and starless universe. The planets were gigantic amethysts, with towers carved out of the mineral. A purple so rich, its smell of fragrant wind, a nutty flavor so strong, a horn sound so deep...

He was out of breath, his eye burned. Bill blinked and returned to his own mind, away from young Or's thoughts.

"Finally, there is Merma, but it'll be a short visit: as soon as I'll tell them that I'm coming from the All-Seeing Eye Dimension, they will cut short." Yet another elegant nod. "Your name is still revered in the Multiverse."

"I... I'm glad." The voice gave him a tremor and Bill clenched his hands into fists. The sparkling colors of young Or's memories danced in front of him. "They do well to worship me. I hope they also remember what I'm capable of."

"The stories about your incredible powers are always alive." The young man turned. "I think my portal has finally opened."

Bill followed the direction of his gaze: a portal had just appeared two meters away. It was of the same swirling blue as always, a sweet honey flavor overflowing from every point of the spiral: however, there was also a small hint of purple, sharp and deep, which made the colors of the Nightmare Realm vibrate.

"That's the right one," Bill confirmed. "It'll take you to the capital of Merma. From there, I think you'll be able to go on your own."

The young man touched the tip of his hat.

"Thanks again for the deal."

"No problem." Bill put his hands behind the shape. "Thank you for visiting."

The young Or turned and, with one hand on his hat, walked through the portal. Even with his back to him, Bill knew he was smiling: satisfied with a good deal, satisfied because he was going to a different Dimension, satisfied with seeing other things and talking to different people.

The young Or passed: little by little, the blue stopped swaying and rearranged itself in a slow turn. The Nightmare Realm was still vibrating in disharmony with that new chord, with those new scents, with those foreign flavors. Fragments of something different.

And the portal was always there. It wasn't shrinking, it wasn't fading. It was still open and its colors swirled, inviting him.

Maybe…

Bill came closer. Different colors and flavors called him, invited him, attracted him: he allowed himself to be attracted, his sight filling up more and more with the blue of the portal.

Why couldn't he cross it? He was still alive, after all, despite the white explosion. He had managed to hold his strings together, only by sheer willpower. He didn't have a physical form, but that couldn't be a limit, right?

The Nightmare Realm disappeared from his eye and all that was left was the blue in front of him. Bill held out a hand. It had been so long...

An imbalance made his yellow screech, something collapsed in his mind. The atoms of the fingertips broke their bonds, the electrons were lost. The strings changed their configuration and, under his wide-open eye, his fingertips pulverized.

A deep fear hit him, claws grabbed his mind and Bill shot back as if he had been thrown away from the portal. He brought his left hand to him and covered it with his right: they were both trembling.

If I…

He wasn't stable enough to pass through a portal. His strings were too weak, the atoms too fragile to hold him together in such a long leap across multiple dimensions.

If I hadn't…

His legs were shaking too. He looked at his fingers: the tips were still a little straight as if the top had been cut off. He had had enough strength to keep himself whole, but he didn't have enough strength to resist an interdimensional leap.

If I hadn't paid attention...

The portal would have torn him apart. No willpower would have been enough to put his strings back in the right configuration: the atoms would break apart, the electrons scatter. And there would be nothing left of him.

He felt like throwing up and coughed, but nothing came up from his nonexistent stomach. His arms still trembled. He looked around: there was no one in sight. But he had to go, no one could see him there. Nobody was supposed to see him so fragile.

Bill shot off, in the direction of the Quadrangle of Qonfusion. He landed on one of the steps and ran up at breakneck speed, until his legs and arms stopped shaking and his fingertips were rounded again.

Once he reached the landing, he fell to his knees and hands, panting. The memory of his ancient failure unwound before him, the scenes followed one another, still as vivid as ever: the edge of the Multiverse, the starless void, the muffled pulsing of what was lying beyond, the law of balance that rejected him. His power surrounding him, pulsing in his flesh. The law breaking under his fingers, the delicate glass rim.

The white explosion.

Eighty billion years had passed. Those events should have STOPPED repeating themselves. He should have STOPPED screaming in his mind. The pain should have faded. But it COULD not fade, not when HE HIMSELF was the failure. He, with a form that was neither bone, nor flesh, nor blood. He, who had lost his physical body in the explosion. He, who was only strings and atoms, held together by the mere will to exist.

He who couldn't MOVE. He who was POWERLESS.

Dazzling red anger blinded his sight. Bill banged his fist on the ground and the ground broke beneath him, a crack split the stone in half.

Anger boiled up. Once, with the same blow, he would have pulverized the entire staircase! Once, with a wave of the hand, he would have created blue flames capable of DEVOURING Dimensions! He would have displaced planets from their orbit, piled rocks to form asteroids, made stars collide just to see them explode!

What had he been able to do in the Nightmare Realm, instead? He poured color everywhere to make it a little less hateful to the eye, made galaxies change position every Thursday and created bubbles of pure madness. Just BUBBLES, in which there was a bit of everything inside. BUBBLES! He couldn't bring up planets or collapse stars or BURN THAT DAMN PLACE!

He was WEAK, WEAK, WEAK. He could not create, he could not destroy, and worst of all, he could not leave.

He raised his fingers again and, like every day for eighty billion years, he snapped them. Like every day, the snap was weak and muffled.

He could not jump. He could not go away. Neither through portals nor by jumping between Dimensions. The paths through the Sixth Dimension and the long bridges of the Ninth were closed to him. His favorite power, the greatest of all, had been taken away from him.

"You hate the cage, but it will be in a cage where you will spend most of your life."

With a frustrated cry, Bill pressed both hands to the landing and blew it up, a thunderous explosion that threw pieces of golden stone everywhere. He grabbed the nearest column and broke it with his bare hands, then smashed it to the ground. The upper level shook, cracks opened on its surface: Bill floated around it, grabbed the edge with one hand and pushed, until it broke. The stone fell, shattering on the lower landing.

It wasn't RIGHT! It was the fault of the MULTIVERSE and of its stupid LAWS! It was their fault if he was suffering now! THEY had taken away his power! THEY had confined him to that Dimension! THEY had deprived him of his body! They had made him so POWERLESS!

He wanted nails to scratch himself, he wanted skin to feel the pain. The recent failure overlapped with the fresh one, the blue portal overlapped the white of the explosion: if at least that portal had worked, if it had freed him from the cage...

Bill screamed again, with enough fury to bring down the nearby column. It collapsed, taking the upper level with it. Bill grabbed his arms and felt just a magnetic field: the only protection that still held him together. If he had walked through the portal without thinking...

CURSED THE MULTIVERSE!

He had tried SO MUCH to distract himself! He went over every inch of Dimension Zero, talked to every single creature, created the Nightmare Realm, welcomed anyone and made deals. But nothing, NOTHING served to distract him! NOTHING made him forget that THEY were free and HE was in a cage, HE was the one forced to sit there and hope that someone would come, that at least one person would come in to talk to him and free him from his lonely prison...

I DIDN'T DESERVE THIS! I DON'T DESERVE THIS! DAMN TEN DIMENSIONS! DAMN LAWS!

He grabbed the top and turned his back to the center of the Quadrangle: he looked out at the planets glittering against the multicolored backdrop of the Nightmare Realm. He had hoped so much that place would give him at least a little joy. Instead, he had only managed to color a gray prison, to not hear its silence.

Red with a sweet flavor mixed with the fresh apple of the orange, a band of crackling black slipped into the melody of pink. The colors of the Nightmare Realm reset, a sign that the portal had finally closed.

The portal…

An echo of those colors tickled his eye, stroked his lashes, whispered against his senses. It was similar to the colors that had crowded young Or's mind, powerful scents, wonderful melody and such intense flavor, Bill had to re-enter his own mind.

His visitor was now gone, but the colors of his mind were still hovering around Bill's, exotic flavors lingered on his tongue. Their music surrounded him, their melody was discordant with that of the Nightmare Realm, surprising, different. Melodies of new worlds and worlds that had changed.

He lowered his hands from the top and joined his fingertips. Between his dead and impalpable fingers, he felt the memory of red, the smoothness of black, the wavy green, the pointed purple of the amethyst-like planets. They were new and wonderful worlds, which he had never seen. Worlds that were born from the ashes of the destroyed ones. Worlds of exotic flavors. Worlds dug in minerals. Worlds on the brink of black holes.

Worlds that were all denied him. Worlds he could not visit.

However…

He turned to the inside of the Quadrangle. Maybe... even if he could not visit them... maybe he could... look at them? Even for just a moment? He could not be there in person, but he could always listen to their colors, smell their melodies, taste their scents. And if some creature appeared, he could also see what they looked like.

Bill looked back, to the rest of the Nightmare Realm. He could look at those worlds. Or he could go back to his palace, to his rooms that were always the same, to think about all his failures all over again.

Bill flew out of the Quadrangle, heading for the nearest bubble: it was dominated by red, with purple and green curls spiraling on its surface. Bill slipped inside, letting himself be surrounded by those velvety walls. A snap of his fingers and the wall became thicker: just in case some meddler tried to snoop.

He moved his hands in a semicircle and the space around him filled with screens: large, small, of every possible shape, they floated weightlessly, transmitting images from every point of the Multiverse. Bill turned on himself, his eye running through each screen, drinking those images like water from a spring.

After eighty billion years of looking just the Nightmare Realm, the All Seeing Eye turned his gaze to the rest of the Multiverse.

Dimensions had changed since his last visit. They had grown, developing ever larger cities, ever more powerful empires, ever more advanced technologies. Some had already colonized their own galaxy, setting up bases on each planet and building portals to connect to the nearest Dimensions. There were more commercial exchanges, more different creatures that lived in the same environments. In some cases, like Lottocron 9, the Dimension had opened up to all others and every single planet was overflowing with beings from every point of the Multiverse.

But there were also other Dimensions. Smaller, with people still unable to make interstellar travels, but who had been able to accomplish wonderful things. Buildings made of pure wind, city-towers of glass and sand, spiral worlds. A Dimension had statues covered in a color he had never seen before, another one had inhabitants that looked like camels, with thin, mile-long legs. Bill had watched them move, swaying and swaying without ever falling. He had looked at the spaghetti rain with wide eyes, he had caressed the screen that showed new colors.

There was so much, there was...

"Still a lot for you in this Multiverse."

...everything. And many creatures had never seen or heard of him. Who knows what their Dreamscapes were like.

Bill walked away from the square screen that had shown him the sand worlds and it turned off. One by one the exotic colors faded into crackling black and the screen itself disappeared, leaving the variegated red of the bubble in which Bill had locked himself. He turned around and raised a hand, turning off the screens behind him.

A circular screen caught his eye, and the scent of black stopped his arm. Bill moved closer: the screen showed nothing special, just a young black universe, still full of atoms and gases, with newly formed fragments of gray rock.

He focused on the background, on that black. It smelled… familiar. A distant sensation tingled in his impalpable hands: the glass of a jar, the lid being turned and then smooth, flowing circular marbles.

"When I was a small Shape, I had a lot of marbles in a jar. Every time I put my hand inside, I felt the black."

Under his eye, matter clumped together more and more, held together by gravity. The silent gray, the black, all the shades in the rock lit up more and more, the red of the heat and the orange illuminated the stone fragments, it made them melt together. The gases surrounding that incandescent cluster approached and...

And the black space exploded in dazzling light. A white light that erased everything, which erased

my shape

the space around it, covering every sound with its slow breath, the same breath of that cursed moment, the same white of his failure, the same...

The light dimmed, little by little, making black and blue re-emerge. From the heart of the white emerged a glowing sphere, white and red, surrounded by space dust.

A star.

His right hand trembled. Bill put his fingers on the screen and scrolled the image, shifting his view to another point of that dimension. His eye was captured by another star, with the same frightening white, but also with a hint of blue.

"Smell the rain. What do you feel?"

"You."

Clusters of interstellar dust were gathering around the blue and white star, fragments of rock joined together to create a planet. Gray and black and brown mingled, new shades unfolding with each rotation of the newly formed planet. The blue of the rain-scented star became more intense, thanks to the ticking brown coming from the planet: the same ticking of a rain heard centuries ago, in a library that was overflowing with different music.

"I heard this sound for years and I never knew how to connect it to something. Now I know it's brown."

Bill shifted his gaze again, away from the individual stars, leaving the single planets behind, until they became smaller and smaller white dots.

And as he moved away, other colors appeared on the screen. Galaxies with red shades, soft between hands, which stretched like silk among the stars. Purple powder quilted with white diamonds, impalpable. The memory of a windy day, a scent that stayed on him and he had not been able to identify for years.

"Purple has the smell of the wind."

The yellow. The stars gave off a warm yellow light, bright points compared to the blue of their neighbors. A yellow that was his yellow, which was the memory of an open drawer, of cutlery between his teeth, of a vibration that reached his core.

"It's like this. It's crunchy and... and something else. I don't remember now. I've tried it before. And it's like a second surface."

A pink that mingled with the wind, which was the memory of a world impossible to reach, of a space outside, of a Guardian who had answered his invocation.

"I will give you the greatest gift, what nobody in the Plane has ever granted you: free will."

Bill blinked. It was not shaking just his right hand, but both hands. His form, too, was shaking as if in panic, like when the portal had almost disintegrated him.

He looked at the screen again. That was a young Dimension, too young to be interesting: there was nothing but rocks and a couple of newly formed gases. But its colors... the black was the same as his childhood, the gray was that of the Plane, the yellow was that of his shape, the blue was that of his devouring flames.

They're mine.

Every single color was the same in his earliest memories, trillions of centuries ago.

What world is this?

The other Dimensions always had slightly different colors: the red was always a little sweeter, the purple scent of the wind always had something more or less, the blue was always more or less peppery. But in that world, there were the exact same colors as his memories. The black had the exact same smell of embers of that distant day, trillions and trillions of years before, in Rìem's library. The gray had the same silence as his ancient prison. The yellow was the same as his shape, it was his own, it was just like him.

In that Dimension, there were his colors, together with the white of the explosion that condemned him.

Awareness hit him and Bill stepped back, shocked. He looked at his shaking hands, looked at the screen that showed him that little universe in formation. A young universe, which had part of himself and of his failure.

"I created it..."

Those words floated in his bubble, surrounded him, and settled on him. He saw himself again in front of the edge of the Multiverse, so very thin under his fingers. The law of balance rejected him, tried to keep him inside. Bill pressed against it, using more and more energy: he felt its power become liquid, flow through his veins, radiate like heat from his surface, run like tears. The opposing force broke, his fingers touching the edge of the Tenth Dimension.

And... what had happened, when everything exploded in the dazzling white light? That light had traveled from one end of the Multiverse to the other, everyone had seen it. Its power had been remarkable: there was nothing in the Multiverse that could even approach it, not even the most destructive of black holes, not even his devouring blue flames. Such a power could very well have created a new Dimension.

But that power had not exploded by itself. That power had been unleashed because of him. He had been the spark that ignited the explosion. He had provided enough power to make the Multiverse glow with white light. He had given the means for that explosion to create a new Dimension.

He floated over to the screen again and placed a hand on its surface. That was his universe.

"The universes are born and die without anyone's need. Here they only find a fertile ground in which to grow."

The Axolotl was wrong. That world was not born by itself, by pure chance. That world was born because of Bill.

Just... why so late? The explosion took place eighty billion years ago...

"I marked everything on the walls of the cave. By counting the days in thirty-hour cycles and the months in thirty-day cycles, as I did in prison: eleven months and two days passed since I came here."

"The white explosion created a temporal paradox."

"Hasn't it been three years for you?"

After the explosion, his companions experienced time anomalies. Eleven months had passed for 8-Ball, three years for Paci-fire, ten years for Teeth and Keyhole - and just because they were about ten meters away from where Bill was. If that little Dimension was very, very far away, perhaps opposite to the epicenter of the explosion, many years could pass from the explosion to its birth. Even eighty billion.

A trembling laugh shook him all over, his eye twisted into a smile. He had finally created something. And it was not a simple race, drawn at random thanks to a dice, as it had happened on Ucron 9 trillion centuries earlier. It was a whole Dimension! A universe of its own!

Bill raised his hands and the screen enlarged, spreading in every direction, until it covered the walls of the bubble. The red of the Nightmare Realm disappeared, replaced by the black of the forming Dimension and the light of its stars.

Bill spun around, filling his sight with every detail, every color, every flash of light. And, as he stood there suspended in front of the screen, he really felt like he was in his Dimension, among the galaxies that were forming, watching that new world unfold and grow around him.

Chapter Text

ACT VI - DIMENSION 46’\

CHAPTER 37

Bores always required his presence. Bill had to run to them, often finding them already in his study with their hands behind their backs, looking out the window. Other times, they sat like good children. And all of them, without distinction, needed him.

Some were just children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren of criminal bosses who had made a deal with him billions of years ago, coming back to reconfirm those alliances as young Or did. Other times there was an unknown creature, a new wanted man who was there for one reason only: to make a deal, for one time or for a lifetime.

Deals were always great, of course. It was fun to devote himself to the subtle game of glances and words, calibrating each sentence, leveraging on his natural charisma. The guest laughed, alcohol soothed their nerves, the armchair was so comfortable and, by the way, had Bill already told them about that time he burned an entire Dimension, because the king had a very bad taste for furniture?

Once the deal was made, the guests said goodbye and left. If there was someone else, then Bill moved on to the next. And Bill hoped more and more that there was not someone else.

"There's no one else, my Lord."

"Great." Bill got up from his chair and stretched, heading for the door. "I'll be away for a while. If there's a problem, ask my Henchmaniacs."

The servant bowed. Bill passed him and headed at great speed toward the rear exit.

His private bubble was waiting for him, protected by the barriers that made it inaccessible, its interior covered by the spherical screen. Lately, Bill had done nothing but sit in there, watching his little Dimension grow. He had witnessed the birth of billions of stars and each one was as exciting as the first. He had seen galaxies forming, traced the spirals with the tip of his finger, the boundaries of the irregular and elliptical ones. His universe grew rapidly, at a constant rate: new chemical elements formed, planets assembled in systems around stars, galaxies approached and collided. It was a world teeming with activity and matter, a treasure chest compared to so many other dimensions he had visited, in which every single thing was frozen and the galaxies were dead systems suspended in a vacuum.

On the other hand, it was his world. It made sense that it was so lively and active, just like him.

But only one thing was missing: the fundamental one, the ultimate proof that would bless his Dimension, elevating it above thousands of empty worlds.

The appearance of life.

The favorable chemical elements were all there, many galaxies stabilized and billions of planets were ready to welcome the first, simple bacteria. It was only a matter of time: the first life forms would be born any minute now and he would not lose it for anything in the Multiverse.

"Bill!"

That surprising call forced him to slow down and stop. Bill turned around: Keyhole was approaching, with one hand raised and a smile on his lips. His eye was wide with surprise.

"Hi," Bill greeted him quickly. He glanced at the end of the corridor: the exit was right there. He just had to reach the door and...

"I didn't expect to see you around!" Keyhole exclaimed. "You're never here lately. I knew you were locked up here before..." He shook his head as if to disperse those words. "Anyway! What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing special," he waved a hand. The eye kept returning to the door. He just had to reach it, to get back in front of the screen, to look at his Dimension. "I'm... looking at things around the Multiverse."

Keyhole flinched, his eye widened even more.

"Oh!" He exclaimed. "Oh, that's great! Great news! I thought you didn't want to look beyond this place anymore! I mean, not that I don't like it here... and-and you're free to do whatever you want, of course..." he added immediately, hastily.

The exit was so close. In the bubble, the screen kept showing his Dimension grow and evolve. It was waiting for him.

"I see, I see, excellent," Bill said, looking from him to the door. "If there's nothing else, then..."

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something." Keyhole rubbed his neck. "You know, the last Zalogre boss is dead and we have to decide how to organize them, since some of them have already merged with the Shyrv. If you could help me fix this... maybe we can make a quick visit, arrange them on some other planet or..."

Keyhole had pulled out a notepad. A damn notepad. And Bill was listening to him rambling about those things when life in his Dimension could be born at any moment.

"But you don't need my help!" Bill interrupted his stutter with a dazzling smile, spreading his arms. "You can do it all by yourself! See? You're handling everything fine already! Great job, pal!"

"But…"

"I'll leave this in your hands!" Bill continued in a loud and cheerful voice, moving away without taking his eye off Keyhole. "I'm sorry, but I'm really in a hurry. You know, unforeseen circumstances, commitments, Multiverse, you know." He reached the door and opened it. "I trust you!"

"Uh..."

"Perfect." Bill winked. "Keep it up!"

Before Keyhole could say anything else and hold him back even more, Bill closed the door and bolted away from the building.

Uuurgh, who cared about Zalogre and Shyrv? He had much more pressing matters to attend to! His Dimension was growing and he did not want to stay away for too long. He had to do it because of that nuisance who wanted to make a deal, but he would not let others hold him back for such small issues: Keyhole could solve them by himself.

He had other things to do.

Once he left the planet, Bill looked around for his bubble in the colorful space of the Nightmare Realm. If that stupid mortal with his deal or Keyhole with his notepad had made him miss the appearance of life, he would have pulverized them both!

The bubble was not far from where he had left it, near the Quadrangle. Bill threw a quick look around: there was no one. Quickly, he reached the bubble and slipped inside.

Life was born under his gaze on a hot and humid planet, inside a pool full of chemical elements. Tiny bacteria, extremely simple, navigated that tiny sea, looking for nutrients. Bill followed them moving, his hands pressed to the screen, his eye wide open examining their every little detail. He saw them differentiate, moving from small irregular spheres to more elongated structures. Some also developed small flagella, which they used to swim easily.

They were all there, they were ready, they were growing. Soon their primordial birthplace would run out of nutrients and bacteria would be forced to evolve to draw new energy from other elements. With more energy, they would develop. As they developed, they would evolve. As they evolved, they would come out of the water and occupy the mainland.

It was a matter of time, nothing could go wrong. Nothing had to go wrong.

But, once the nutrients ran out, the bacteria died. Bill watched them go off, watched their cell wall break down and the cell dissolve. His hands scratched against the screen, too far away to intervene, too weak to give more strength to those small life forms.

The second time around, microscopic organelles aggregated into a planet made of gases. The continuous movement made their aggregation more difficult and the absence of water forced them to collect nutrients, by moving for kilometers. But they were strong. They had thick membranes, strong and light cell walls, small tails that allowed them to direct their flight within the gas belts. They were bacteria born in difficult conditions and they wanted to survive.

Bill followed them moving, traced the best routes with his eye, accompanied them with the tip of his finger. But the winds were too powerful and nine times out of ten the bacteria ended up pulverized, their walls destroyed by the violence of the currents.

And life went out again.

Life arose again on another planet, a new watery cradle where bacteria had managed to evolve into multicellular organisms. For the first time, they had managed to cooperate. They had managed to form clusters of multiple cells. They had enough energy for evolution. They could not fail.

As soon as they came out to the ground, the radiation from the nearest star killed them all.

Bill grabbed his top, while yet another microscopic life form died under his eye. Why was it going on like this? It was not supposed to be like that. Why did nothing survive? The universe was expanding quickly, planets formed at a constant rate, stars burned brightly, orbits were perfect, the spirals of the galaxies had a symmetrical precision. Why did all of that work, but life could not grow? Why? WHY?

What's wrong?

There was energy, he had poured all his power into that explosion. The chemical elements were there, the atoms aggregated in the right way... but then, why couldn't they develop further? Why just microscopic life forms, which died out as quickly as they were born?

He gripped the screen with both hands, scratching its surface. He couldn't do anything, ANYTHING! He was stuck in the Nightmare Realm, who knows how far away from his creation and had no other energy to give it. He could only see life die.

THAT'S NOT FAIR!

He broke away from the screen and put his hands on his eye, hiding the umpteenth bacteria that were dissolving in front of him. On the black background behind the closed eyelid, the familiar images reappeared: the empty edge without stars, the power that flowed into his hands as he forced the wall of the Multiverse, the white explosion that pulverized his physical form. His failure repeated, as every day, for eighty billion years.

Bill lowered his hands and opened his eye again. But that Dimension… that was his creation. He had given birth to it. If he had not tried to force the edge of the Multiverse, if he had not poured out so much power, that universe would never have had the strength to form and grow. Faced with it, his failure became... a little less of a failure. Even the white of the explosion did not seem so horrible, when radiated by his stars.

True, he had lost his physical form and was a lot weaker than before: but he had created a Dimension, something not even the Axolotl had managed to do on its own! And life would be the final test: with the development of life, his creation would truly be special. It was a Dimension that had a part of Bill inside: what strange, bizarre and fabulous life forms could be born? Surely, in a world created by a powerful being like him, there could only be incredible life forms, very powerful, able to resist everything and surprise him!

He let his hands fall to his sides, watching the last bacteria dissolve.

"I know I can't create life," he had said in a very distant time, when his powers were yet to be discovered and the Multiverse was a lot younger. And he had never managed to do it: life kept eluding him, exactly as in the trillions of centuries in which he had tried, in vain, to create it.

And that Dimension was just another dead and useless world, identical to all the ones he had burned in the past. His failure had been a complete failure, without exception.

Bill turned off the huge screen and squeezed his eye tightly, refusing to see. He pressed his hands against the closed eyelid, as if that would erase the terrible truth.

He had created a barren world.

"Thank you so much, Kryptos." Keyhole smiled, patting him on the back. "I don't know how I would have done without you organizing everything. And we were able to hear both Zalogre and Shyrv! I'm glad they agreed without problems."

"I didn't do anything special," Kryptos defended himself. "They just needed to talk and we made them talk: they decided to settle themselves all in the Shyrv area."

"I hope they'll stay there, even when all orbits will change again on Thursday."

"They will, don't worry."

Keyhole sighed.

"Bill said he trusted me and that I could do it alone, but it was just too much."

"You did very well, instead," Kryptos reassured him. "So Bill is finally back at the palace?"

"He's out again," Keyhole replied. "He was back, just to talk to someone who wanted to make a deal. But do you know what he told me? He's looking at the Multiverse again!"

Kryptos stopped.

"Really?!"

"Yes! Isn't it great? I almost gave up hope! And, when we talked, he was in a hurry: maybe he's planning something."

"It's… unexpected." Kryptos smiled. "But it's good news. It's more like him, at least."

"Is he looking for a new dimension?" Keyhole looked around. "It's not bad here, but... it's a bit too much. I don't know if it's the same for you or if you can understand me..."

"I understand." Kryptos waved a hand. "The colors, sometimes, are confusing. And if at least the galaxies didn't change shape every week..."

"Yes, that too," Keyhole agreed. "But it's more than that. Some places are... Bill likes them, so I can't say anything. But, like, these bubbles: two days ago I ended up in one of the purple ones by mistake and..." His lips trembled: Keyhole squeezed them, closed his eyes and shook his head. "Luckily I was with Teeth and he pulled me out, otherwise I would have gone insane."

"I know, I believe you." Kryptos looked away. "It's better to stay away from some places. I'm also avoiding the area around Vargan because, since Bill transformed it, it has become hypnotic. Last time I went in, I left after two hundred years."

"So that's where you disappeared, all that time." Keyhole raised a hand. "I'm going back to the palace, are you coming too?"

"I'll join you later." Kryptos stretched his arms over his head. "I've been sitting for too long, I want to float around for a while."

"Okay, see you."