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sealed in a transparent case, as if the mere depiction of the Bleed was a threat in and of itself. They stopped at the door marked “Retention Offices.”

It swung inward, and a surprisingly pleasant middle aged woman wearing what Derrick would describe as African tribal garb greeted them. She was different from them; darker skinned, with silver eyes, and a shaved head.

“Welcome to the Retention Center. My name is Aduwabeh of the House of the Swirling Wind. Step in, have a seat, and please let me know how I may assist you.” She motioned for them to join her at two chairs in front of an opulently detailed desk covered in delicate carvings of the sea and of the winds blowing savanna grasses.

The carved grasses and waves undulated ever so slightly under the sway of an unseen breeze as they approached and sat.

“We are trying to find our sisters,” Arridon said. Thistle of House Frost, and Samantha…?” he turned to Derrick.

“Samantha Morrison. I’m Derrick Morrison, and he’s Arridon Frost. Thank you for having us.”

“I see. What was the manner of their disappearance?” Aduwabeh asked as she assumed a serene posture of clasped hands and perfect posture behind the desk.

“Well, for me, we were fleeing our moon colony because things were breaking down, and everything was catastrophically failing, and there were giant tick monsters, and a waterfall, and we were walking in a cave, and then we were separated, and I was in a sewer back on Earth, in London, years and years before I was even born,” Derrick explained.

“And my sister and I were fleeing the demon horde of the Bleed. We ran to the clockwork tower in the Endless City, and used the god-tech to escape. She went somewhere else, and I landed in the same London Derrick arrived in.”

“That sounds awful, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” the boys said together.

“Forgive my assumption, but neither of you are full-blooded citizens, are you?”

“Citizens?” Arridon asked, confused.

“You keep using the archaic term ‘gods,’ and I think you mean Citizens of Eo. Only races that the citizens spawned or alien races use anything like that backwater phrase now. If you were the children of citizens, you’d be using different terminology,” she explained.

“My mother was what we called a god on my world,” Arridon said. “Maybe she was a citizen, by your definition.”

“I don’t know where my citizen lineage is, but yeah, we’re half-blooded at best. Arridon has powers; I don’t, but my sister might, if that helps.”

“Congratulations. How were your powers awakened, Arridon? By a Citizen? Another higher-order being? Thaumaturgical engine?”

“Yeah, that last thing.”

“That’s a great story,” she said, seemingly genuine in her happiness for him. “You’re welcome to visit one of the Thaumaturgy Priests in the central hub to awaken your powers, Derrick Morrison. It’s a painless process, and you never know what will get unlocked.”

“Noted. So how do we find our sisters?”

“Place your hand on this slate in my desk,” Aduwabeh said, indicating a smooth piece of black glass. “It’ll assess your identity and load it into a system that can search the multiverse for the proper match for your sister.”

Derrick windmill slammed his hand on the slate with a loud slap and stared at her. “Ready.”

She raised an eyebrow in surprise, and soon after touched the edge of the plate with a single finger.

Derrick yelped as a searing flash of pain consumed the skin on his hand. He yanked his hand away to look at the burnt, molten flesh, but…his hand was fine, and the pain fast receding.

“It’s generally been best to not forewarn people about the pain,” Aduwabeh said. “It takes quite awhile to explain the whole process, and the anxiety provoked just isn’t worth it. Arridon Frost, place your hand on the slate.”

Derrick looked at her with shock that tipped towards rage. As he held his wrist, Arridon put his hand on the slate without hesitation.

“Not nervous?” Aduwabeh asked him, surprised. “Second scans are usually where people hesitate.”

“I made a promise to my sister I’d stay by her side. A little pain isn’t going to stop me from keeping it.”

Aduwabeh touched the slate before Arridon had the chance to switch his stance on the impending experience. The same nerve-wrecking burst of agony hit his fingers and palm and he too jerked his hand away from the invisible flame.

“Fuck,” he snapped.

“Yeah it hurts, man,” Derrick said, laughing nervously as both sufferings faded.

Aduwabeh waved her hand over the slate and a pair of rotating DNA helixes appeared, real enough that they looked like they could be touched. She waved her hand again, and the helixes grew and expanded until they were several feet tall. Tiny pips of glowing light appeared sporadically along their length, looking like windows with lights on the inside.

“Here are your root genetic strands,” she said as she continued moving her hand near the slate and the display. “And here is a gross approximation of your Aural imprint,” she added after a motion with her other hand.

A new transparent helix appeared, clutching to the original DNA strand like a halo of armor. It sparkled and shimmered like a Fata Morgana.

“What?” Derrick asked.

“Biochemical genetic markers are just one way to identify you. People leave auras, resonances, imprints in a psychic manner. Disturbances to both time and space can be measured as well. When fighting a force that is an unending apocalypse, we must be very thorough in making sure we’re right about citizens, and their descendants.”

Derrick turned to Arridon. “I was the smart kid. People asked to copy my tests in school. I know a lot. I’m smart, okay? And ever since this bullshit started, I’ve never, ever felt dumber.”

“Have you ever experienced anything from the 4th dimension?” Aduwabeh asked.

“No, that’s not possible. We exist in a three dimensional universe,” Derrick answered.

“But with technology and magic, citizens are able to transition between layers of the multiverse. We can shift our entire existences to alternate realities with more, or fewer dimensions.”

“I can’t even wrap my head around that,” Derrick muttered.

“And

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