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“There’s a knock on the door. Who could it be? Is it a friend? A foe? What do they want? Surely nothing you can share. But then, why are they here? Why your door? You hope it’s not worms.
Welcome, to Night Vale.”
“Come on Jon,” Carlos pulled on his outdoor lab coat. It was indiscernible from his indoor lab coat, except that he referred to it as his outdoor lab coat and wore it every time he went outside, unless something forced him from his lab in a rush and he forgot it. “We’re going out.”
“Where? Why?” Jon asked, compulsion dripping from his tongue. The power granted to him by the Beholding, God of Knowledge that fed off the fears of being watched and Known, allowed him to command information from others’ lips-
Carlos rolled his eyes. “Ask without the compulsion, and maybe I’ll tell you.” Somehow, for reasons that science and the powers-that-be failed to understand, Carlos was immune to such powers. He used the immunity to try to teach Jon to ask questions like a normal person, not because he feared the power (Carlos actually found it quite useful) but so that Jon had the choice to compel or not.
Jon’s face scrunched up as he tried to focus on his words. “...I wonder where we are going and why.” While he had yet to figure out how to ask questions without compulsion- have you tried breathing without your lungs inflating?- as long as he phrased it as a statement, nobody was forced to give him the answers.
“A fog has covered the Night Vale Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area,” Carlos explained. He usually explained what they were doing, even if Jon refused to ask in a non-compulsion way; when he brought Jon along on outings, it was because he thought Jon could help out in some way. “Well, where it once was. Since there’s no actual water over there, I want to see what’s creating the fog.”
Jon nodded, hopping down from the lab chair and pulling on his boots: a pair of neon green cowboy boots that had been a gift from Cecil after Jon’s initiation into the Cub Scouts. The boots went with absolutely none of Jon’s outfits and he loved them with all his heart. “Did you tell Dad about the fog?”
“Jon.”
He huffed. “...I’m wondering if you told Dad about the fog.”
“I told him to warn people away from it,” Carlos confirmed. “People aren’t supposed to go over there, anyways, but people deserve the extra warning in case this fog is more than it appears.” He paused. “...it’s not like the Glow Cloud, is it?”
“No,” Jon said, then pouted. “You’re not allowed to compel me either!” A consequence of his powers was that, if someone asked him a question, Jon was compelled to answer, as long as the Beholding Told him the answer. He didn’t mind it, and even enjoyed being able to call on the Beholding’s Knowledge, but it wasn’t fair if Carlos compelled him but he couldn’t compel Carlos.
“Right, sorry.” Carlos really did try to remember that, but sometimes he got ahead of himself; it was hard to train oneself out of asking questions entirely, especially when the person you’re asking Knew almost everything about the universe. “Come on, let’s go do some science.”
The rest of Night Vale seemed as usual: the sun shone brightly, scorching the Earth, and the Sheriff’s Secret Police lurked around any corner, keeping a close eye on anything that could result in arrest and re-education. Broadcasted through the air, Cecil’s voice shared the going-ons of the town, switching from happy to serious at the drop of the orange sunhat he wore out that morning.
However, as they walked closer to where the Night Vale Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area once stood, the fog became obvious. It hovered in a restrained area, almost exclusively over the ruins of the building that the City insisted never existed, with only thin tendrils sticking out.
Jon stopped, tilting his head at the fog. The Beholding would not share what hid within the fog, but it seemed almost… happy, at the fog’s presence. The only other times the Beholding seemed happy about anything, it was after Jon consumed a particularly fear-filled Statement, or when he stood by and Watched something fearful happen.
Carlos, noticing Jon’s stillness, stopped walking himself. He opened his mouth to ask, but shut it quickly, simply sending him an inquiring look.
“...the Beholding is excited,” Jon relayed, squinting at the fog, as if that would allow him to See through it better. “...but it won’t let me see inside.” His disappointment came across in his voice and he frowned, trying to bite down the feeling of betrayal toward his patron.
“...I see.” Carlos continued walking toward the unknown fog, and Jon followed. The two of them made it close to, but not into, the fog, stopping just far enough away for Carlos to deem it ‘safe’ to set up a mobile science station. There were thermometers, beakers, and a couple dials and sensors that maybe worked, maybe did not. “Jon, tell me what you can about the fog.”
“...it’s thick,” Jon said, feeling a little silly that he couldn’t share much beyond the obvious. “White and light gray, almost like steam. The Beholding doesn’t want me to See inside.” Jon paused. “...fog is sometimes the main source of moisture in deserts.”
“Huh.” That sounded like a very interesting science fact. Maybe Carlos could do more research into that and share his findings with Cecil for a Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner… “...wait Jon! Stop-”
But it was too late; Jon had already disappeared into the fog, not bothering to put on proper protection equipment. Granted, ‘proper protection’ was kind of a loose term, since the threats ranged from mild irritants to world-ending catastrophes, but Carlos would prefer Jon to wear goggles at least. Gloves, too, and maybe a lab coat. But did Jon care what Carlos thought? No, he took after Cecil “you don’t need a HazMatt suit near Radon Canyon” Palmer and thought that safety precautions were ‘unnecessary’. Sure, neither Jon nor Cecil had died yet- and that was something Carlos was studying because how incredible was that?- but they should take better care of themselves.
Sighing, Carlos slid on his own pair of safety goggles and a mask that covered his nose and mouth- there was no telling what the fog was made out of, or if it contained enough oxygen for him to breathe- and followed Jon into the fog.
To his surprise, the fog did not feel like fog. Usually, fog as thick as this clung to your skin, the moisture in the air making the temperature feel cooler, only to make the heat burn that much more once it faded away to slight humidity. This fog, besides obscuring his sight, did not act anything like fog should; he could not feel it at all.
If it’s not actually here… for the sake of scientific curiosity, he pulled off his mask, calling out, “Jon! Jon, come back!”
The air, at least, was breathable: forgoing the safety precautions turned out fine, this time, and allowed his search to progress easier… assuming Jon could hear him. “Jon!”
“Listeners, earlier today, my boyfriend, Carlos, and our son, Jon, disappeared into that fog hovering on the edge of town. Since then, none of my calls have gotten through, and Carlos hasn’t even told me what time to expect them home!! I know they can take care of themselves, but I worry for them. Who knows what the fog could want from them?”
“Jon! There you are!” Carlos grabbed Jon by the arm. “You can’t just go running into the fog like this- what were you thinking!?”
“I wanted to Know what was inside,” Jon replied, then shook his head to clear it of the automatic reply, then scolded (though with noticeable relief), “Papa.”
“Right, right…” He sighed. “...tell me what you’ve learned.”
“The fog belongs to the Lonely.”
“Another Fear Entity…” Carlos frowned. “Cecil said they hadn’t been in Night Vale since nineteen eighty seven… until you showed up. Why…” He muttered to himself, running a hand through his perfect hair.
“Because of them.” Jon pointed, and when Carlos looked, he saw a silhouette. Not of some hulking beast, or something with tentacles or wings, but rather a humanoid figure, a bit taller than Jon. The fog obscured any details of the figure, so there was still the chance that they were a hooded figure or some other human-adjacent creature…
Reminding himself it was for science, Carlos moved closer to them. “Hello?”
The figure did not respond.
“Hello! Can you hear me?...can you understand me?”
The figure, now more visible, looked very much like a human- a human child, at that, albeit with their back turned to him. “...hello?”
Finally, the figure heard him, turning their body around. Their hair reached their shoulders and hung over their eyes, just as their oversized sweater hung over their hands. “...”
“Who are you? Can you understand me?”
“...”
“...Jon,” Carlos did not take his eyes off the figure. “Please ask them.”
Jon perked up. “Who are you?” Static crackled under his voice, the Beholding unleashing its power in the center of the Lonely’s domain.
“Martin,” The figure replied, the word compelled from their lips- and then, they startled, their hair falling out of their eyes. “...I… I didn’t… how did you do that?”
“I compelled you to tell the truth.”
“The truth…” The figure muttered. “...I’m Martin. I’m Martin, and that’s the truth. The truth.” They sounded so excited by the prospect. “I’m Martin.”
Jon nodded. “And I’m Jon, and this is my Papa, Carlos. He’s a scientist.” He tilted his head. “How did you become an Avatar of the Lonely?”
“Everyone, during the weather I got a call from Carlos!! He says that the fog was the result of the Lonely, the Entity that feeds off the fear of being alone. Can you believe it, listeners?! Another Fear Entity visiting our lovely little town!!
More importantly, within the fog, they found another Avatar! His name is Martin- which both he and Jon have assured me is the truth- and he’s Jon’s age! This is amazing news: I was worried about Jon making friends with other Avatars, because I doubted there were any his age, but now I see I had nothing to worry about!
I’m glad this all worked itself out.”
Martin- because that was his name, it was the truth and he was not crazy or making things up, because Jon assured him that it wasn’t a lie- sat across the table from Jon, listening to him talk about everything he would need to know about living in Night Vale.
“-and you can’t go into the Dog Park, you can’t even acknowledge the Dog Park,” Jon instructed. “The Sheriff’s Secret Police won’t re-educate you ‘cause you’re an Avatar like me, but you don’t want to get in trouble. Then they might not help you find food and you don’t want to starve. I got taken once so that Papa would vote for the right candidate and there was nothing for me to eat, and that hurt a lot. You don’t want-”
The door opened, cutting Jon off.
“Cecil!”
“Carlos!”
“That’s my Dad, Cecil,” Jon explained, gesturing at the strangely-dressed man closing the door behind him and-
“You have a Papa and a Dad?” Martin asked, unable to pull his wide eyes away from the couple embracing in the doorway.
“Yes,” Jon confirmed. “They’re just boyfriends for now, but they’re going to get married someday.” This realization, the knowledge shared in a single statement, sounded like something out of some fantasy story, but Martin knew it was the truth, because Jon liked telling the truth and did not lie.
“...and… this is normal here? In Night Vale?”
“Yes. Why?”
“It’s not normal where I come from,” Martin blinked. “...and… you’re sure I can stay here?”
“Yes,” Jon confirmed. “...wait until you meet Khoshekh- you’re going to love him.”
“That’s… a cat, right?”
“Yes.”
Martin smiled. “I always wanted a cat…”