Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The year is 2022.

The Philadelphia 76ers are facing off against the L.A. Clippers on a bright and sunny afternoon on the 25th of March. James Harden has landed his 36th free throw against the Clippers in this game, setting the score 119-84. Every Clippers fan looks at this game destitute of emotion; why is this stupid ass free throwing motherfucker James Harden even ALLOWED to do this? It’s just not fair.

Isaiah Joe is currently on the bench, as he has done and will continue to do so for the rest of his career. A career built on being the greatest bench warmer to ever do it is nice; 1.8 MILLION dollars to watch the starters make light work of fraud teams. It’s pretty relaxing. Isaiah Joe decides on this fateful day to go to the bathroom. He gets up from the bench as James Harden makes his 44th free throw of the game.

Now, Isaiah Joe has a problem: He has never been in this stadium before. The hallways twist and turn in orthodox ways, a great sign of LA’s architectural problem. Back in Philly, these hallways would be straight with like, 20 doors on each side. Simple and clean. So, Isaiah Joe keeps on walking. Not a single bathroom sign in sight.

Eventually, he reaches the end of one of the labyrinthine hallways. There, stands one door. It seems to have a sign on it; Isaiah Joe goes up closer to read it.

“                                       “

Yea, that seems close enough. Isaiah Joe turns the knob and opens the door. Except, this is not a bathroom. At first, Isaiah Joe blames L.A’s dogshit architecture again. These frauds don’t even know how to play with LINCOLN LOGS. Why the fuck are they designing stadiums? But then, something catches his eye.

Red and black squares orbit around what seems to be a small orb of light; the rest of the room is pitch dark. It looked like the Chicago Bulls were cursing yet another poor stadium; those bastards. This stadium, despite its flaws, never deserved it.

Something about it seemed so… magical to Isaiah though. The orthodox movement reminded him of himself, in the way that he rotates subtly on the bench as James Harden sinks a 55th free throw. And something about it seemed so… compelling. Like he could pick it up and dribble it.

No time for that though, he had better things to do. He closed the door, and right to the left of it was the bathroom. Fuck these L.A. architects.

Isaiah Joe returns to the bench, and the game is already over. James Harden sinks a 122nd free throw, and the game is over. The LA Clippers are destroyed, mentally and physically. One of them has been reduced to dust, which promptly walks away from the court right as the game ends. Another win for the Phillies. These nephews didn’t even know what free threw them.

“Aye, wait a minute!” Isaiah Joe jogs to the rest of his team as they begin to leave. “I found some cool shit in this stadium. Shit looks like a square Fushigi ball.”

Somehow, nobody had found anything wrong with this statement, despite the fact that balls are not square. And Fushigi balls were a hack, too.

And all of the team went through the LA maze once again; going through the result of government embezzlement and general uncaring of general building norms. No regular person builds like this, in the way that Los Angeles architects do.

Isaiah Joe reaches the door he had been to just 10 minutes prior, now with his entire team behind him. Tyrese Maxey is still thinking about the Fushigi ball metaphor, and just how much it doesn’t make sense. He opens the door, and there it lay in all of its glory.

The squares seemed to mystify all of them, each perspective shedding light on something new. Georges Niang thought of it like it was the logical end to something; a representation of how he had scored 0 points total throughout that entire game. Bum shit. Charlie Brown Jr. saw potential in it, that there was something to be tapped from these squares.

Isaiah Joe willed them all into the room, and they stood there, surrounding the squares. All they could really do was watch as they danced around in odd patterns to no logic at all. Eventually, Shake Milton got (understandably) bored. And he turned around to leave.

Nobody knows why what happened next happened. A freak accident, perhaps caused by fate, or perhaps just caused by pure misfortune. Some would call it good fortune, but others would say it was an omen of the terrible things yet to come. Or they were good things. It doesn’t matter. As Shake Milton stepped to the right, he slipped. His head made contact with the squares, but he seemed to phase right through as the squares disappeared and began to make a glow in the center of the room. Oddly, the floor felt soft and pillowy like a pillow usually does. Unfortunately, Shake Milton sleeps on buckwheat. So it felt like buckwheat, probably.

“You dumb motherfucker!” Tobias Harris shouted. He ran for the door, but the door seemed to have disappeared. The light pulsed stronger, faster, BRIGHTER as the room began to shake and tumble, vibrating with motion. A last scream rang out in the room, as light enveloped them fully and turned the room to nothing. All left there were some squares, red and black, moving around in strange patterns like they had no care in the world.

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The year is 2022.

The sun rose again for the 412nd time since it was brought back. It glowed an ever present pastel yellow, brightening the buildings of Refuge as it had done for the past 411 days.

It used to be worse, Plight thought. Only a year and some ago there was no sun, no brightness, only the gloomy dead dark of the night kept afloat by the hundred or so lamps around the city. Now that the sun was back, he only had to do his job half the time. It was pretty nice having this sun around.

The messiah, Niko, had done it out of their own goodwill. Niko had become someone Plight truly admired, despite being a child they had done something immeasurably good for the entire world. Maybe another kid would have dropped the Sun all the way back in Barrens, and the world would then be under eternal darkness for perhaps the rest of time.

Plight had no idea where Niko had been, actually. All he knew was that Niko was wandering around Refuge, doing whatever Niko’s heart led them to do. Ling said they visited the Cafe often when he was last there, so at least they were still around town. It was good to know.

For whatever reason, Plight felt compelled to take a walk around town. He always did that at night when his job needed to be done, but he never seemed to do it during the early morning. He left his apartment and exited the building at a never-before-seen speed (pretty slowly.) Plight basked in the early morning sun, and started walking.

It was nice. He waved at some people, looked at some things, the whole sha-bang. As he was about to go home and return to his apartment, he looked to his right. Something didn’t seem… right. A new path had formed, obscured by pitch black usually unknown to Plight.

“What the hell?” Plight mouthed. He stared for a bit, and realized something: He didn’t really have anything else going on right now anyways. So, he started walking. The pitch black felt uncomfortable to be in, a suffocating miasma that only barely took grip of Plight. It seemed endless, but Plight just kept on walking. After 10 seconds of walking, it finally cleared up. Plight took one bigger-than-usual breath, and looked around.

And there they were; the red and black squares. Plight was, to be honest, a little concerned. He knew those things only meant BAD. They were said to have killed people, but he had never seen it firsthand. The rest of the area looked like a regular alleyway, except a bit more square on the sides.

Plight was, to be honest, a little disappointed. He had walked a whole 10 seconds through the pitch black to see this, some squares? Pretty lame. Maybe some kid would build a fort here later on. Something strange started happening though; it began to glow white. Intensely so. Plight got a little concerned, but it was whatever. Then it got brighter. And then it started to pulse.

“Okay, I think it’s time to go.”

Plight backed away, but suddenly bumped into a brick wall. Somehow, someway, that damn wall had closed itself off while he was looking at the squares. Those bastards. At this point, Plight realized that he was maybe, probably gonna die. And he began thinking about his life; pretty well spent overall. So, he was content. If these squares and their iridescent glow would be the end, so be it. The alley got enveloped in bright white light as Plight closed his eyes.

Except, Plight didn’t die. He wasn’t really affected at all, actually. Was just a little bit of light. There was one thing different though; maybe 10 or so people had just appeared on the ground.

Isaiah Joe woke up.

“Man, where the fuck are we now?”

Chapter Text

Plight was, well, very confused. Here he was, in an alleyway that was basically closed off, now with maybe 10+ people that have suddenly appeared. He was lost for words, and could only stare.

“And who the fuck are you? Where are we, man?” Isaiah Joe asked. “And why is it so damn cold? FUCK, I need my DIOR DIOR jacket right about now.”

“Well… you’re in-you’re in what we like to call Refuge. Because, it’s our refuge.” Plight stammered for words, still stunned from what he had just seen.

“West Virginia? Did we teleport to the other side of the country?”

“No…. I don’t know where you guys came from, but I don’t think you’re from anywhere near here.”

Isaiah Joe took another guess. “The Philippines? They got basketball…. swear I've seen a city somewhere that looked like this.”

“No.”

“Are we even on the planet right now?”

“...don’t think so, no.”

Louis King, who had been the 2nd to wake up had heard these words. “So… are we stuck here? I got an appointment in a few days, and i’m not tryna miss it.”

Plight responded as nicely as he could, knowing the probable truth: “I think you guys are kind of, well, stuck here for now. Unless those squares come back, I have no idea how you’ll even be warped back to wherever you came from.”

“Man, what the FUCK?”

Basically the entire team was up at this point, and hearing this news, many of them decided to respond in a pretty natural way to the fact that they were most likely stuck in a place they didn’t know for the most likely future: abject grief. Many looked crestfallen, the mighty James Harden taking on a solemn expression. Others began to tear up, Shake Milton’s tears surpassing the ones he wept when he heard that next year he was going to be drafted to the Timberwolves.

Plight realized that he probably should have sugar coated it a bit. He thought of Niko, just a child who had wanted to go home. It probably would have fucked up anybody knowing your chance of going back to normalcy was absolute zero.

He looked around for a bit, until he realized that the path he had taken to this alleyway was suddenly back! And then, an idea sparked in Plight’s head; maybe he could get them a nice life here in Refuge. Those apartments had a lot of vacant rooms, now that he thought about it.

“Well, do any of you want to walk around the city? It’s pretty nice, I promise… I can show you it!” Plight looked around for any takers, and only a few of the team decided to follow Plight. The rest were either staying in this area or would walk around themselves later.

The squad was assembled; Isaiah Joe, Paul Reed, Saben Lee and Tobias Harris, along with Plight leading the way. James Harden took a meditative stance in one of the corners, and began to meditate as it was already implied.

The road out of the alleyway felt much shorter than before, Plight thought. It was just a normal walk in the not-pitch dark, unlike the suffocating darkness that it was before. Pretty awesome, he thought. A bit confusing, but he wouldn’t chance it.

The five of them visited the apartments first, meeting the cool little robot that would scan people here. Saben Lee took to the robot, trying to pet it.

“Yo… they got robots and shit here? That’s sick.”

“DO NOT TOUCH ME.”

Saben Lee was a bit startled by it, not expecting the robot to actually respond. “Damn, okay!”

The rooms were actually pretty nice, compared to what they had expected. They were spacious, multiple bedrooms, a computer, all of it! The view was pretty nice too, actually.

Paul Reed was the first to ask. “Hey, I never got to ask you, but what’s your name?”

“Well, the name’s Plight. I used to be the Lamplighter here, because well, we had no sun. What are your names, actually?”

“Paul.”

“They call me Saben Lee, yo.”

“Isaiah Joe.”

“The fuck do you mean there was no sun?” Louis King asked. He was taken aback at the idea of having no sun.

“...it’s complicated. When we stop at our next place, remind me and I’ll explain it to you.”

“Sure. It’s Louis King, by the way.”

There wasn’t much to see otherwise. An interesting discussion came up about how people would pay to be in the apartments. Plight didn’t actually know; it was a while since anyone had actually brought up or even THOUGHT about money. They all came to the conclusion that they were probably nice enough to let them live there because well, they were foreigners who needed a place to live. Who cares? They’ll answer that when they get to that point.




And so they went to their next stop, the Cafe. Plight didn’t actually know if any of them were hungry, but it was a stop on the road, so who cared?

A conversation eventually sparked between the group and Plight, on what most citizens in Refuge actually did during the day. It came to Isaiah Joe’s attention that a lot of the streets were, well, pretty empty. There were certain areas in Refuge that were big and spacious, with nothing to fill the big and spacious.

“Do you guys have any sports here? Any basketball, soccer, whatever?” Isaiah Joe asked.

“Uh….. no, not to my knowledge.”

“What?”

“I saw some kids kicking cans the other day, maybe that counts.”

Isaiah joe now only has one thing on his mind: Why are there no sports-related things in Refuge? 

And how could he change that?

Isaiah Joe stopped the group in the middle of a now-empty plaza, and decided to take some extreme measures. “Hey Plight, are there any wood planks around? And some buckets.”

“Uh.. yea. Right next to you.”

Isaiah Joe looked to his left and saw just what he needed: some long wood planks and some buckets against a wall, as well as all the necessary nails and tools they needed. Perfect, just like he had planned. (note: he did not plan that. there are SLACKERS in Refuge.)

With that, the 4 got to work. A cool little building montage ensues. You’ll have to imagine it though. Looks pretty cool, right? They really got to work there. If you can’t imagine it, you’ll have to ask a friend to describe it. Tell them to read up to this point and then describe it. It will help a lot, I promise.

Plight watched this building montage happen in real time, and eventually had some questions. The structures they were making seemed really weird, not like anything he had seen before. It looked like two weird statues, or maybe a cool little bird fountain mounted on the wall. Plight didn’t know.

“What are you guys making? And what do you need the buckets for?”

“Isn’t it obvious, man? We building a basketball court!” Saben Lee responded, currently in the middle of a montage.

“What’s basketball?”

The montage stops here for a little bit, all of them shocked about what they had just heard. If your friend is currently imagining the montage right now, tell them to stop.

“Well, it’s a cool little game where there are two baskets.” Louis King began explaining, walking up to the first wall where the plank and bucket had been mounted. “You have one ball, and have to toss it into that bucket to score points. Can be 1 on 1 or with a team, anything works.”

“Sounds interesting!” Plight responded. “Although, they’re a bit taller than I thought.”

“You should see how it is back where we live!” Isaiah Joe chuckled a little. “Most of them are, like, 10 feet tall. This one is just over 8 feet. For reference, Louis over there is 6 foot 7.”

Plight, for a moment, was taken aback. 6 foot 7 seemed gargantuan. There were the robots, which were pretty tall, sure, but they’re ROBOTS. Robots can be built to whatever height, so it’s kinda cheating to include them. But, it’s a useful comparison; Louis could probably look down on some of the robots Kip had built, which didn’t even seem possible. Maybe everyone in Refuge was just, pretty short? Height wasn’t something often thought about until now. With this in mind, Plight responded: “Cool.”

The montage continued. Tell your friend to start imagining again now. And also, tell them to include this next part:

A spirit was now watching the construction of this basketball court, now with intrigue he had never felt before. Since he had been transported to this world, the spirit had nothing to do but just watch the world as it went on.

He had watched the sun fall for the first time, and watched the sun reappear after many days of inactivity. He saw the messiah exit the train car for the first time, and saw them enter the tower. All of this watching was preceded with a warmth in his body; something intriguing was happening.

For the most part, the world he was in was full of people with interests and motives, but none of it was of real worry for him. Before he was a spirit, he was a ghost. And before he was a ghost, he played Basketball. Pretty good at it too, actually. He spent many of his ghost days watching novice players, expert players, and everyone in between. The game was his life and joy, and every time he woke as a ghost he prayed he would wake up in the middle of a basketball game.

When he was transported to Refuge, it was like a purgatory for all the wrongs he had done alive. Not that it was a bad place, no; just that there was nothing for him. Not inherently wrong, but it sucked for the now-spirit who desperately just wanted to see some sports. The intriguing moments came to be the random cans and rocks that were being tossed by kids throughout the many weeks, as he began studying every movement and every arc and every physics-related thing, just to subdue the boredom he felt. This basketball court being built was the first bout of warmth he had felt in a long time, and for the first time, he felt like he was breaking free. Of what he did not know, but soon he would find out.

Okay, you got that? Tell your friend or whatever to put that in the montage. Because now the montage is done. Did you like imagining it? What was your favorite part? Mine was when they nailed the bucket to the plank. It was pretty awesome.

Saben, Louis, Isaiah and Paul felt, well, pretty accomplished. The only thing missing was a ball to play with. Paul then noticed a ball in the shape of a basketball next to some boards. It was almost glowing in a way, like glowing objects do, coercing Paul to pick it up. And he did! Surprisingly, the ball actually felt pretty good to play with. It was not exactly a basketball, but it was rubber, hollow, and actually full of air. Felt close enough, so it was basically a basketball.

“Hey, could you maybe, well, teach me basketball?” Plight asked Isaiah. “It sounds pretty fun, actually.”

“Sure, man. The basics are hard, but if you put in the time, you’ll get REALLY good. Pass me the ball, Paul.” Paul passed the ball over to Isaiah, and he began dribbling the ball. “This is the first thing you gotta know, dribbling. You can’t just take the ball and run, you have to dribble if you want to move with it. But you can also do it in place so you can stay in one spot.”

After a bit, Isaiah Joe passed the ball to Plight. “You try! One step at a time, just try and bounce it from one hand to the other. Slowly.”

Of course, Plight, the beginner he is, completely fucks up the first dribble. He uses a lot more force than actually needed, and bounces it completely over the wall and onto the floor of an elevated viewing area of the barren plaza. 

A spirit walked to the ball, and reached out to it.

“Shit-- that’s unfortunate, but somewhat expected from a beginner. Don’t worry Plight, i’ll go get it--”

BOOM!

A pulse of magic, or energy (to this day nobody really knows what it was) was sent throughout the entire plaza. It stopped everyone in their tracks, frozen in complete fear. Chills went up Isaiah Joe’s spine.

“Th-the fuck was that?” he sputtered, looking around everywhere for the source of the noise.

“What’s happening?” Plight asked, worriedly.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time, Isaiah.” the voice said, booming throughout the plaza like an office intercom. The now-human jumped over the wall and landed. Saben Lee was surprised. This couldn’t be real, right? They were dead a LONG time ago. But… How? Isaiah Lee thought he was dreaming. But the surprise return of Kobe Bryant to the land of the living was no dream. 

This was reality.


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“What’ll it be today? The usual?” Ling asked, notepad in hand.

“Yes, please! Can you add more syrup too?”

“Alright, Niko, hold tight. I’ll get those done for you in a jiffy.”

Niko enjoyed the cafe a lot, for many reasons. For one, it was usually pretty quiet. The atmosphere was warm, and most people spoke softly and were intertwined in their own conversations. And for two, it was the perfect space to talk about the great days Niko had. Today was a day to discuss the day before, which was pretty good. It was also very early in the morning, meaning it wasn’t too packed. In fact, only Ling and Niko were there.

“What book you got there? Is it interesting?” Ling questioned, putting some butter in the pan as it began heating up.

“Storybook! I got it yesterday!” Niko flipped to the page they had stopped on the night before; it was getting pretty intense. The dastardly villain Alka Zama was now in a battle with good! The hero Stratocaster would stop Alka Zama for good with the power of music! “It’s awesome!”

“Ooh, looks interesting.” Ling looked back at the book as they poured the batter into the pan, now eagerly waiting for the chance to flip it. “Whatcha gonna do after you eat?”

“Explore! I saw this cool tree on my way here. I wanna see it some more!” Niko eagerly talked, excited about everything.

“Sounds great! You know, Mr. Lamplighter’s been wondering where you’ve been. Always seem to be evading him, according to him.” Ling chuckled a bit as he checked the first side with a spatula.

“I’ll talk with him eventually! When I see him, I'll be sure to say hi! Tell him I’m doing just fine, okay?”

“Will do, Niko.” Ling moved the pan around a few times before flipping the pancake, landing it perfectly once again. Niko clapped for this amazing feat a few times before returning to reading. And then,

boom

A quiet little boom, more like a short pulse, was felt by Ling and Niko. It was like a muffled explosion, to the power of at least 10. Maybe 20. It was REALLY quiet, that’s what you should take from that.

“Hey, did you hear that?” Ling said, now a little worried.

“Yeah, I did! Do you have any idea what that was?”

"Nope."

Ling, for now, decided to go back to focusing on the pancakes, flipping, sliding, and battering. But it was still very, VERY present in the front of his mind. As the scent of pancakes and syrup filled the cafe air, Ling decided to ask Niko a favor as he finished the plate, steaming hot and fresh.

“Hey, Niko. Could you check out what that noise was? Whenever you can. I’m just a little worried about the source, so to speak.”

“I can!” Niko said, eyeing the pancakes. “Not before I eat these delicious, scrumptious, beautiful…” Niko trailed off in thought as they began to dig in. “Thank you, Ling!”

“Of course.”

Ling felt good about yet another satisfied Niko, but now eyed the coffee machine. Still pretty empty, not having any coffee in it. And then they eyed the clock: 5:27 in the morning.

That's pretty odd actually, Ling thought. Plight’s usually around here at 5:20 for his coffee. Sometimes he's a little late, but usually on time, because he loves coffee. Ling gulped silently and prayed that Plight was okay.

Chapter Text

Kobe Bryant, in the first few moments of his now non-ghosthood, had to adjust. As a ghost, you don’t have blood, you don’t have a heart, you don’t have any real feeling at all. You can phase through stuff, and it was kind of awesome, but, there was nothing there to get the blood pumping, the heart beating.

All these senses came back to Kobe Bryant like a long-lost memory. His heart began to thump in urgent rhythm, the blood coursing through his body like the pain from a hit nerve. He moved his hands with the ball around, doing a sequence of short dribbles and crossovers. His hands were as agile as arrows through a blustering tailwind, and the ball moved with fierce grace.

Yes, this was it. The thing Kobe Bryant had been missing all those years as a ghost: the FEELING. And also feeling stuff in general. Holding a ball felt pretty good. Imagine if YOU couldn’t feel any sort of physical touch for a few years, Would be pretty terrible, I think.

“Who.. who are you, sir?” Plight asked, raising his voice to reach the upper level of the plaza. “How did you get here?”

“The name? Kobe Bryant”. Kobe’s voice boomed throughout the plaza, loud as a jet engine. “For YEARS, I have laid dormant in this place. Watching. Waiting. And it seems you people have finally awakened me. Thank you, I mean it dearly.”

“...Isaiah?” Plight quietly asked.

“Yeah?”

“Who’s Kobe Bryant?”

“He’s a player, just like me and Saben and Tobias. People considered him one of the greatest to ever play basketball! And then he… and then he died. And now he’s HERE. I--I don’t know how, or why, but he’s here now.”

As Plight was mentally processing these words and what they meant, including such words as “greatest” and “considered”, Kobe’s voice boomed out:

“You. The one talking.”

Isaiah Joe froze up, as the rest of his team stood starstruck.

“Kobe?”

“...you are the one who orchestrated this court, yes?”

“Uhh, yeah. I guess you could say I did. This place needed some sports, y’know. Pretty empty out here: Plight over here said the most people do is play Kick the Can. And I couldn’t stand for that, you know?”

“Honorable, indeed. And your friend, Plight. Beginner, yes?”

“Yep. Started teaching him 3 minutes ago, until you showed up outta nowhere.”

“Shall we show them something high-caliber then? I think you already know where this is going. First to 2, just for time sake.”

Isaiah Joe gulped. The legendary Kobe Bryant 1v1 was a rarity, even while Kobe was alive. And now, he had the chance to do it right now.

Of course, he didn’t have much of a choice. His team members cheered him on eagerly, like they would have for the match of the century. Plight joined the crowd as well, giving Isaiah Joe some words of support:

“I don’t know who this guy is, but you can do it.” Plight gave his best encouragement for something completely out of his depth.

Isaiah Joe was visibly nervous. But with a deep breath in and out, he responded to the roaring voice of Bryant:

“I accept, Kobe”

And thus, they had a game. Saben, Paul, Tobias and Plight sat on miscellaneous objects near the walls, cheering for their boy. Imaginary lines had to be drawn for the court, since, you know, no chalk or whatever. But it didn’t matter, despite how scuffed the setup may be. The PASSION was still there: Isaiah Joe vs. Kobe Bryant. A matchup nobody had expected, right in the front door of Refuge. First to 3. Almost nobody was watching, only a few people (one he had barely even known before this), but all the energy in the world was on these two people.

It was game time.

*****

“Hey man, good games! You did your best despite the, well, circumstances. Not the court I would play on normally.” Kobe Bryant’s outstretched hand went towards Isaiah Joe’s sweaty, heavy-breathing face. Isaiah Joe could only meet Kobe’s hand with his own, and quietly contemplate what had happened. The game felt like it hadn’t even happened, and yet it was over.

He knew it was hopeless the moment he checked the ball and Kobe let loose. Kobe was as fast as a lightning bolt, jolting from the 3-point line to right next to the hoop almost instantly. Isaiah Joe went for a block, but was too early. He had to watch as Kobe stepped back and threw it gracefully into the bucket.

His defense was almost impenetrable, like he was an iron curtain of straight MAN. No matter what angle he tried approaching the hoop, Kobe would be covering it. At one point he seemed to have found a weak point: to the side of Kobe and behind would be the perfect approach. The moment he left his spot, Kobe snatched the ball and jolted to the hoop once again. It was no use, another point scored.

Seemingly out of emotion, Isaiah Joe tried one more trick, hitting a 3 pointer. His mind however, cloudly, prohibited it from hitting. While he tricked Kobe into the wrong direction, his shot took too long to aim. Too much time recovering from the quick dash, and Kobe snatched the ball. By miracle, however, Isaiah Joe for once, seemed to have Kobe locked down. He laid his own curtain down, and Kobe patiently waited for an opening. But Isaiah Joe let his guard down for 1 second, maybe even 1 millisecond, and Kobe slipped past like the smallest breed of snake. Kobe leaped from the ground as if propelled by rockets, and tried to dunk.

It looked like a renaissance painting, Isaiah Joe thought. He wondered if they had any renaissance painters in Refuge. And with the remaining pride he had, he could only examine the details. His form was on point, graceful with the force of a typhoon behind it. Kobe’s leap was massive, like he could cross the planet with one running hop. But then, he hesitated. Kobe let the ball move itself into the basket, letting go and catching himself on the wall behind the net
Of course, the ball went in.

0-3 for Isaiah Joe. A miserable performance, at least by someone’s standards.

“Isaiah! You good?” Saben Lee shouted, still handily relaxing on the big spool of wire that was near the wall.

“I think he’s good, Saben. Just a bit tired, yeah?”  Paul responded, stretching his legs out. “Everyone is after a good 1 on 1. Oh wait, this reminds me--Plight! Plight?”

Plight didn’t respond back, utterly enchanted by the game he had just witnessed.

“I guess he’s enjoying it.” Paul said, focusing back on Isaiah Joe’s still-panting body. Notably, he got up and walked over, pulling him up.

“Hey, big man. Good shit out there. ”

"...thanks man."

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Niko’s day was going pretty well, to keep it short and simple. A stomach full of Ling’s best pancakes and a mind suited for a big adventure today, a combination that could only bring some of the best days out here in Refuge. The skylines were a beautiful orange and red as the sun dawned upon a new day.

The plan was set in motion: First, they’d go see the cool tree, as mentioned earlier. It was prime material to draw, and luckily they had a little sheet of paper and some crayons (caringly given to them by one of the library-goers). And then, the day was theirs to conquer! Perhaps they could finish reading the storybook they had gotten today. Or maybe, even visit the Glen! It had been a few days since they had met up with Alula and Calamus, and the ruins WERE in dire need of exploration.

In fact, they even had a cool little fort made before! It was near a small stream of water, and already had a flag made by Alula, although most of the handiwork was done by Calamus. Or maybe they could even go say hi to Kip! 

Too many choices, Niko thought. All of the potential choices were swirling around Niko’s head as if they were fish in the vast, vast ocean. As the clank of the metal grates beneath their feet stayed constant as they approached the big elevator, Niko decided that they would decide there: the elevator.

They tapped the DOWN button and eagerly waited for the elevator to come up, tapping their feet in a simple rhythm as the sound reverberated quietly throughout. A ding! invited Niko into the elevator, and sent them on the long way down.

The great thing about the elevator (known as the Elevator of Planning to Niko) was that there wasn’t really much to do except to wait until you reached the bottom. Nothing except a flier for an event that was a good few months past its date was in there. Many of Niko’s greatest ideas (and schemes) had originated from this said elevator. A few weeks ago, Niko got the bright idea to make a scary mask at the library and try to spook Kip while she was working on a gadget. And it worked perfectly! Although, Niko then learnt why you don’t do that, and a life lesson was very handily learnt that day.

A short hum started up as Niko’s thoughts started churning and turning like gears in the machine. They began processing, probabilities and potential happenings calculating together and equaling to whatever Niko wanted to do today. And unlike other times, about halfway down Niko finally decided: They would go see and draw the cool tree, and then go meet up with Alula. A perfect decision, masterfully made by Niko. Good job, Niko!

And now, it was locked in. Nothing could change what Niko wanted to do today, a trait that was usually never shaken by anything that could happen to Niko.

Except the one time it did. But it had been pretty long since it happened, and Niko had already made every observation and thought every thought they could have about what they had seen. So, they were past it. The elevator dinged, and opened to the mellow red of the bottom of Refuge. Niko waved joyfully to one of the residents, and were on their way.

First order of business: Cool tree.

Second order of business: Cool fort. A great day was ahead of Niko.

Chapter Text

Once you got to know the Refuge, it was actually quite an expansive city. Of course, there are lots of normal, boring, arguably oppressive buildings that reach to the skies in the Refuge. But the spots where the city opens up were like natural cathedrals, untouched by the grasp of the big city. 

Niko’s favorite spot of them all was a small patch of forest near the outskirts of the Refuge, right on the cusp of the Glen. The trees curved left and right, in ways Niko had never seen before. To add onto the vibes the curvy trees gave, the red phosphor glow from the city made it look like an entirely alien planet, creating spots where the light would turn the tree into entirely different colors. Niko was amazed by the light trickery at work. It was also usually isolated because of how out of the way it was. Niko pulled out some of the crayons from their pockets: they made sure to get THREE different shades of Red, along with some other colors for extra flair. That’s art, baybee. 

Infact, most of the Refuge, despite its bleak exterior, was quite beautiful. Niko had seen at least 3 different painters in different spots of the city, painting and brushing away at their canvases like there was no tomorrow. It was a good thing Niko had locked in what they wanted to do in that elevator: imagine all the potential choices you would have! The big canal, the alleyways, a painting from the upper level of Refuge would be pretty too. 

Niko retraced their steps from the Cafe to the cool tree: walking past the library, through a few alleyways, and then another street before the city started to open up. Grass started appearing on the sidewalks, the air got a tinge more clear, and less and less buildings started popping up through each gap Niko went through. Eventually, there were no more buildings, and the forest patch was right in view.

Although this time, Niko wasn’t alone. When they walked through the trees to find the super-cool tree, someone was sitting right at the foot of it. It was someone Niko didn’t recognize at all, wearing all red with strange white symbols on them. They were sitting cross legged, arms at the kneecaps, eyes closed. Completely tranquil; their body moving up and down with every breath.

Niko was extremely curious. The entire world was pretty small in nature, so any person Niko didn’t recognize was a rarity. They decided then to approach the man, and potentially get some answers. But then, a voice suddenly came out:

“Hello?”

Niko jumped back in shock, letting out a small gasp from the sudden noise. Looking back at the man, his eyes were now open, centered straight on Niko.

“...well, you got anything to say?”

“Uhm… I’m Niko!! I like drawing and pancakes! What are you doing here!”

“Well, I'm meditating. Get my head in the game, y’know. Also to just practice.”

“Practice? How do you do that when you’re sitting down like that?”

“You know anything about astral projection?”

“...huh? What’s that mean?”

The man re-adjusted himself on the ground, and took a deep breath.

“Well, when you relax the mind hard enough, you can kinda enter a state where you’re out of your body, kind of like dreaming. And you know how in your dreams, you can kind of do anything? I can kind of, well, “create” a place where I have the ability to practice even when sitting down like this. Can also make people for me to play against! It’s kind of like playing chess against yourself, if you’ve ever done that, except it’s not really you. They kind of share the same thoughts, same thought process, except they can do something you have to adapt on the fly. I think that’s my secret to getting really, really good at 3 pointers. Just the ability to-”

The man looked up again at Niko, whose eyes were wandering around the forest looking for anything of interest. “Oh, sorry. I must have gone on too long, yea?”

Niko darted back to the man, completely unaware of anything they had just said.

“Oops… sorry!!”

“Wait a minute, aren’t you like, 7? What’re you doing out here anyways?”

“No!! I’m 8 now. And this is my favorite spot in the WHOLE WORLD! I wanted to draw one of the trees here! Look!” Niko reached into their pockets and showed the man the crayons (triple red shades still intact) and the paper.

“Oh… that’s cool. You come here often?”

“Yea!! I LOVE the trees here! They’re so cool…”

“Sweet. Hey, actually, I have a question. You got parents? They know you out here in the forest?”

“Yea!! I got a momma and she’s the COOLEST in the world! And she—and she… And she doesn’t… She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know where I am. And it—“

Niko started stuttering as their face suddenly went from one that was hyperactive to something much more solemn. The air suddenly went quiet, and the man had realized he had chosen the wrong set of words to ask at this time. Not wanting to deal with the emotional talks and to get back to some good ol’ astral plane basketball, he tried another set of words:

“Uh… where’d you get the hat? I’m a fan of it. I like the little uh… cat ears.”

This turned out to be the worst thing he could ask, as Niko sat down,  pointed their eyes to the ground beneath them and began to sniffle.

“...my m-mom made it. She made it for me when I was really young, hand-made too. I think I've worn it every day since I got it. It meant a lot to me. And it’s been… ages since I last saw her. B-because I'm not from here.”

“...what do you mean by that?”

“...I woke up one day, just here, in a dark house. I don’t know how I got here. Or w-why. It doesn’t make any sense. And I had to.. save the world. There was no sun. And I got told that I was the messiah. And if I returned the sun, I could never go b-back. But everyone here was so NICE!! I couldn’t let any of them just… disappear like that. It wouldn’t be right. Alula and George and Kip… I couldn’t just let them go! And everyone here’s so nice, and I’m glad they’re here, and look out for me… but… but…”

Niko’s sadness turned from a small sniffle to tears, and then into a full sob.

“I WANNA GO HOME! I miss my momma, and I miss the wheat fields I could run around in, and I wanna see all of my old friends too. I wanna hug my mom and tell her I love her and that I missed her and everything. And I can’t because I returned the sun. And maybe it was the right decision because I like everyone here and they like me and Ling at the cafe gives me free pancakes and George lets me read books for free and it’s nice here and I don’t want them to have their world disappear like that but…but  I just wanna g-go home! I WANNA SEE MY MOM AGAIN!”

Niko’s yell quickly turned back into a teary-eyed whimper as they curled into a ball of absolute melancholy.

“...i just really miss my mom. i really miss her. i wanna go home.”

The man was struck into silence. For a few moments he tried to leave the situation with some good ol’ fashioned projection: but it didn’t work out. You had to be completely clear in your mind to do so, and it wasn’t really clear at all at this time. So perhaps against his better judgment, the man got up from his place under the curved tree, brushed himself off, and quickly walked over to the child before squatting down.

“Niko, right? I’d like to uhh… say something.”

“...yeah?”

“I’ve barely known you for more than maybe, 5 minutes? But I really uhh.. I really think you’re strong. I mean it. I can’t imagine going that long with no contact with your mom despite the fact they still out there, yeah? I just… really think that’s cool. And um… I think you shouldn’t give up just yet. I just got here because of some weird squares, and that was just a few hours ago I think. You’re strong, Niko. I think she’d be uh, proud of you. One tough cookie, yeah? You should be very proud of that.”

“...”

“She’ll still love you, no matter what. My own momma is really naggy sometimes, but I know it’s out of love. I know she’s worrying about you right now, but that shows she still cares. I think you’ll be uhm.. back soon. I don’t know when, but I think you’ll be able to see her soon.”

“...”

“I’ll just uh…….. let you be then. Stay strong, yeah? You still got that tree to draw! I think you’ll do great on it.”

Niko didn’t respond, wet eyes hidden away under a hand-made hat and scarf infused with a mother's love.

The man walked away from the conversation feeling quite strange, as if he had done something or said something wrong or half baked to Niko. He took up his lotus stance once again at the foot of the tree, but couldn’t quite project himself again. It wasn’t the right state of mind, and he had no idea how to clear it at this time.

And so he let himself sit there, the air quiet and listless, save for the sobs and whimpers of a child that had not seen their mother in a long, long time.