240 Still Standing
240 Still Standing
“How are you doing?” Guesswork asked.
I had just finished another intense session with Ms. Life. Sweat soaked through me, every muscle trembling as if I’d been wrung dry and put back together wrong. The treatment demanded everything, from focus, endurance, pain tolerance… and still felt like it was only buying me time instead of fixing anything.
“It’s tough,” I said, breathing slowly, “but I’m working it out.”
Visibly, I no longer looked like a complete wreck. The cracks that once webbed across my skin were gone, sealed beneath layers of borrowed vitality. That illusion of health didn’t mean much. My situation was worse in quieter ways. My days were numbered, shaved brutally shorter thanks to that Eclipse copycat who thought stabbing me with a tentacle was funny. Prick.
Guesswork leaned against the wall, arms folded, tone casual. “Hey, NSD invaded your world.”
I stopped.
I stared at him, unsure whether my ears had failed me or my patience had finally run out.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
He blinked once. “NSD mounted an invasion effort on your world. Thankfully, the GDF managed to react quickly. Also, there’s the Company—”
“That’s your world too, cunt,” I snapped.
“Hey, calm down,” he said mildly. “You can’t say that. It’s mean.”
“Stop,” I said flatly. “I’ll kill you.”
Guesswork had developed a bad habit of testing my patience lately. It was probably his way of joking. The problem was that nothing about this was funny.
I turned and walked away. “Let’s go. Send me back.”
He hurried after me. “No can do. Your time is too precious to risk going back there this soon. Inside the facility, you’re safe, and time won’t move for you. That means this ailment you’ve got? It won’t progress here. I already explained this, right? Same reason SRC members live so long.”
I didn’t slow down.
“Moreover,” he continued, “the SRC is reallocating resources as fast as possible to deal with the NSD aggression. There’s no need for you to go back and fight an invasion that’s going to end soon anyway.”
I stopped and turned on him.
“The SRC isn’t exactly inspiring confidence,” I said. “I hope you understand that. Now get me back out there.”
He exhaled, rubbing his temples. “Then trust your comrades. Griffin’s there, isn’t she? She built the GDF. If you’re that worried, here.”
He handed me a tablet.
“Feel free to check the news,” he added. “It’s connected to your world’s internet. Been monitoring it since you fell unconscious.”
I took it and started skimming articles. Headlines blurred together until one phrase kept repeating.
Alien invasion.
I looked up at him. “We’re calling them that now?”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “SRC policy. Keeping the multiverse secret from developing civilizations is non-negotiable. This is probably the work of an SRC executive already deployed there.”
My fingers paused over the screen. “And that’s a problem because…?”
“A conflict of interest,” he said quietly.
I scrolled again and found a video thumbnail. Tempest. Bloodied streets. Burning vehicles. The title was already spreading everywhere.
I read it aloud, my voice low.
“The multiverse is real.”
Something cold settled in my chest as I looked back at Guesswork.
“This,” I said, “is going to get a lot of people killed.”
Someone tattled, and that someone had been Chad.
He stood on the screen in blue-and-white body armor, face hidden behind a mask that left only his mouth exposed. Tempest. That was the name he’d chosen after joining the GDF.
“I’m Tempest, speedster, and a member of the Global Defense Force,” he said into the camera.
Guesswork stood beside me, hands in his pockets, watching the broadcast with infuriating calm. “Yeah,” he remarked, “that happened.”
I clenched my jaw.
I remembered arguing with Griffin about this. A long time ago, before the Company had solidified, before the GDF was more than a half-formed idea. I’d warned her about revealing the multiverse to the public… about how one organization had already monopolized it, how knowledge itself was a weapon.
Back then, I’d won that argument.
Not out of fear of the SRC, but out of fear of consequences.
My world’s sciences were artificially stunted because of the SRC’s quiet hand. But the moment you told people there were other worlds, real ones, reachable ones, researcher-class capes would fixate on it. Curiosity would metastasize into ambition. Set a goal, and humanity would claw toward it no matter the cost. That was how progress worked.
Revealing the multiverse would hurt the SRC.
But it would only help the GDF.
If people knew there were other worlds and other threats, they’d demand heroes to protect them. They’d demand funding, authority, and legitimacy.
And the Company?
We’d adapt. We always did. There was opportunity in chaos, and no immediate danger to us.
Still… Chad doing this, here and now?
On the screen, Tempest continued.
“The invasion came as suddenly as any villain attack,” he said, voice tight but steady. “But this time, people are really dying on the streets. Armed forces are moving through civilian areas as we speak—”
A deafening roar cut him off. The camera shook violently. Glass shattered somewhere off-screen.
Tempest caught the camera before it hit the ground, breathing hard as he stared straight into the lens. “Behind me is Griffin,” he said, raising his voice, “fighting to protect our world against an enemy from another world, similar to ours, but different in ways you can’t imagine.”
The camera tilted.
An enormous bipedal lizard towered in the background, scales reflecting firelight. It was locked in combat with a crimson titan twice its height, her form like flowing blood, hair burning like flame, eyes glowing gold.
Tempest paused, pressing two fingers to his ear. “—Yeah, I hear you.”
Then he looked back to the camera.
“There are other worlds out there,” he said. “Entire universes that look like ours, but aren’t ours. Often dismissed as science fiction. But the truth is, it’s always been real.”
My chest tightened.
“The GDF was created to fight threats like this,” Tempest continued. “Threats that cross worlds to end ours. Not long ago, I was an incarcerated man. That’s why I hide my face.”
Guesswork glanced at me. I didn’t look back.
“As for why I was incarcerated,” Tempest said, “it’s because I stole information about this very thing, the multiverse. The universe is far bigger than you dare imagine. And behind me is one of its consequences.”
A blast of energy streaked past him. He barely dodged it.
“A possibility of war,” he finished. “But do not fear. The GDF is here.”
Armed soldiers rushed into frame.
Tempest moved.
Too fast for the eye to follow, he tore through them with bones breaking, bodies dropping, and blood splattering across concrete. It was brutal, efficient, and unmistakably lethal.
All of it live.
The screen dissolved into static.
I exhaled slowly, my hands trembling at my sides.
“…He just blew the lid off everything,” I said quietly.
Guesswork scratched his cheek. “Yep.”
I stared at the dead screen, thoughts racing.
“This changes the board,” I muttered. “Public knowledge. Political pressure. Arms races across worlds.”
I looked up at him, anger sharp and focused now.
“And when the SRC moves to contain this,” I said, “they’re not going to do it gently.”
Guesswork’s expression darkened. “That’s the conflict of interest I mentioned.”
I swallowed.
“Chad,” I said under my breath. “You idiot.”
I didn’t expect Chad to go in that direction, not like that. Revealing the multiverse was one thing, but admitting on live broadcast that he used to be incarcerated? I honestly thought that would tank his credibility on the spot. Instead, it seemed to do the opposite. He had support from someone, or something, shaping the narrative behind the scenes.
I scrolled through messages and articles on the tablet, skimming headlines about multiversal incursions, extradimensional threats, and the need for planetary unity. Analysts were already arguing about defense budgets and jurisdictional authority, while civilians debated whether this meant gods, aliens, or the end of normalcy. To be frank, I preferred the world being aware of its wider reality if it meant we could prepare for invasions like this. Ignorance had never saved anyone.
Guesswork broke the silence. “Not long ago, that broadcast was just a lizard man in uniform announcing an invasion of your world. Tempest really did us a favor by reframing it. However,” he added, tone sharpening, “he also compromised our existence.”
I frowned at him. “Why? He didn’t call you out. He didn’t even mention the SRC.”
Guesswork shook his head. “People aren’t fools. They’ll make the connection eventually. They’ll investigate, cross-reference, follow patterns. You leave enough small clues behind, and suspicion forms. From suspicion comes pressure.”
I set the tablet down and leaned back. “Then tell me this. How did the NSD even find my world in the first place?”
Guesswork tilted his head, considering. “If I had to guess? They followed your trail. You infiltrated their systems, assassinated key personnel, stole massive amounts of research data, and then nuked an entire district… maybe even a city. So no, I don’t know for sure, but it’s not hard to imagine.”
I exhaled slowly. I hadn’t been the epitome of subtlety back then, especially when I was just starting out. I’d learned since then, refined my methods, but mistakes still happened. Even so, pinning this entirely on me felt unfair. This time, I’d been thorough. I’d scrubbed my traces, burned my paths, even nuked the portal I used to converse with the Entity.
Guesswork remained unconvinced. “Maybe next time,” he said dryly, “don’t go on a murder spree.”
I shot him a look. “Tell me what you actually know. Start with what pushed the NSD to launch a full-scale invasion of my world. The SRC has spies everywhere, at every layer. You know something.”
He sighed, the sound heavy. “They’re collapsing under pressure. That’s the short version. Your actions back then sparked revolutions across their resource worlds. It snowballed. Hard. Their government stagnated, their logistics fractured, and their technological progress was set back by roughly two hundred years.”
I blinked. That was… more than I expected.
Guesswork continued, “You gave people momentum. You showed them the system could bleed. They fought back, and they didn’t stop.”
I absorbed that in silence, but what he said next made my stomach tighten.
“Also,” he added, “tree people have started invading multiple worlds under NSD control.”
I didn’t let it show on my face, but my mind was already racing. What were the chances it was Huston, right? I’d dare say pretty low, since it wasn’t just long ago he left Lockworld. But I couldn’t be too sure.
“Is that all?” I asked. “Because I’m still keen on going home.”
Guesswork looked at me for a long second, then sighed. “You know it’s reckless, right? Of course, I can’t really stop you… you’re an adult. If you insist, I’ll let you go. But you know this already: your best chance of surviving all this is killing the Entity. And to do that, you need to master your powers. Reach a level where you can actually fight back.”
That was the problem. I’d promised Nicole and Ron I would survive this. A real promise, not the kind you make to sound brave. That made it hard to lie, even to myself. I genuinely wanted to live. I wanted another day. Another breath. Another argument. Another stupid, quiet moment where nothing was exploding.
Guesswork added, far too casually, “Oh, Nicole’s here too. She got a pass for visitation, so—”
I punched him in the face.
His nose broke with a wet crack. He stumbled back, spat blood onto the floor, and glared at me, despite being blind. “Really?”
“You should’ve started with that,” I said flatly. “Also, smart choice not dodging.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing. “You’d have kicked me in the groin if I did.”
“That’s just your imagination,” I replied. I turned away and started walking. “Bring me to Nicole.”
“There’s no need,” said Dr. Time as he appeared before me.
I stopped short. My jaw tightened. “What are you talking about?”
“She’s a distraction you don’t need,” he replied calmly. “Same goes for your world.”
Something ugly twisted in my chest. “How about you watch your mouth, old man, before I snap and kill you.”
He didn’t even flinch. “Chances are, you’d fail… so don’t even try.”
I did try.
The moment I willed myself forward, my body locked up. Every muscle froze mid-motion, rage trapped inside my skull with nowhere to go. I couldn’t even curl my fingers. Dr. Time hadn’t raised a hand, hadn’t said a word, but I knew. It was him.
Guesswork staggered beside us, still bleeding. Dr. Time walked past me and placed two fingers near Guesswork’s face. The broken nose reversed itself, bone sliding back into place, blood retreating as if ashamed it had ever spilled. Time itself obeyed him.
I glared daggers at his back.
Without looking at me, he said, almost kindly, “Your relationship with that lass, Nicole, wasn’t meant to be.”
I snarled, “Keep talking and I’ll—”
“The only reason it happened,” he continued, unfazed, “was because of your power. The more the Entity consumes, the more your share of that power grows. Exponential growth. Because of it, you acted on ideas so reckless that a single mistake should’ve killed you.”
He turned slightly, just enough for me to see his eyes.
“And yet, you succeeded. You saved a brainwashed psychic designed to be sold as a slave. You overturned systems. You survived outcomes that should not have been survivable. Not because of fate. Because of power.”
I snapped back, “So what? Meant to ber? Who believes in that bullshit? I felt something. I acted on it. Then we became a thing. That’s it. Simple.”
Even as I said it, I realized how volatile I sounded and how sharp my thoughts felt, like they were scraping against the inside of my skull.
Dr. Time noticed.
“It’s likely a side effect of Ms. Life’s healing,” he said. “Your body is stabilizing. Your mind hasn’t caught up yet.”
He stepped away from Guesswork and finally looked directly at me. “I’ve said my piece. What you do with it is up to you.”
Then he walked away.
No portal. No flash. Just gone.
The pressure vanished all at once. I sucked in a breath as control rushed back into my limbs, fists clenching on reflex.
Guesswork straightened himself, rubbing his newly healed nose. “I’ll lead the way,” he said carefully. “Let’s not make Nicole wait any longer.”
I didn’t answer.
But I followed.