Static Reflections: Book 1 of The M... - Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Continuing the tour, Regis and Nick arrived at a large facility made of iron, which went with the shield outlined with gray that carried the picture of an exclamation point. "That's a very interesting building," Nick stated.
Regis turned, his worry seeming to be replaced by eagerness. "This is the Disaster Sect! Run by Solomon Gordon."
"Disaster? Sounds intense."
"You know what a firefighter is, right?"
"Yeah, duh," Nick nodded.
"Don't know why I asked. The Disaster Sect is like a huge fire station for the Mortal Guard. The first responders after a mission, basically. Mortal Guard missions can be messy. We must be able to clean up the mess as fast as possible. These guys excel in speed, and they only go out when there's an emergency, which is basically all the time. They also know light healing magic to heal immediate injuries on the field."
Nick crossed his arms. "Sounds interesting, but not for me."
"Already checking it off the list?" Regis laughed.
"Yes."
"Oh, yes. Did you get your account set up in the M.G.E.S.?"
"Yeah, I did. Registered my solvency card and everything," Nick explained. "The food was really good. Like, woah."
"Oh, yes. The food here is always tasty. Don't know how they do it," Regis said. "Then again, they're robots."
"Yep." Nick's ears perked. "Oh, yeah! What happened to my old phone again? I forgot."
"They gave your phone to your Double. It shares your memories up until this point, and now it can make new ones."
"Oh . . . I liked my phone," Nick frowned.
"You'll get a new one," Regis smiled. "At the end of the tour, as well as your Transmission Set."
"Well, I guess that sounds cool," Nick shrugged.
"Trust me, it is."
"Anyway, Disaster Sect's not for me. What's next?"
"Ah, yes," Regis nodded, strolling along. "Has anyone talked to you about the Moons yet?"
"Nope."
"Those are the days of the week. Monday is Dark Moon, the unlucky day. Tuesday is Silver Moon, Wednesday is Ocean Moon, and Thursday is Forest Moon. These are all leisure days. Friday is Scarlet Moon, the day with the most risk for the biggest reward. Saturday is Violet Moon, the day of love and affection. And Sunday is Golden Moon, the day of luck."
Nick let this process for a moment. "That's going to take some getting used to saying."
"In time. As for other increments of time, we still use seconds, minutes, and hours."
"Thank god for that," Nick exhaled.
"Gods," Regis corrected, holding up a finger.
"What?"
"There are multiple gods that exist, so you say gods."
Nick shook his head. "I've only ever heard of books doing that . . . ."
"Might want to start! They could be listening." He looked around them with a concerned face.
"Fine, okay," Nick relented.
Their next stop was a building almost as big as the Creature Hunting Sect with white walls and lined with what seemed to be light blue paint all the way around on the top and bottom. The shield carried this same light blue and the symbol of two animalistic figures that were exact copies.  "Lemme guess . . ." Nick stroked his chin. "This is the Sect where you make the copies of animals?"
"You're right!" Regis beamed. "They create all the Doubles of the Mortal Guard and send them to the Mortal Realm. Not only that, but they also create the Doubles of the Sect Leaders."
"Well, yeah. They're animals, too," Nick pointed out.
"Oh, no, no, no. They get a bunch of Doubles so they can be in multiple places at once and, so, since Doubles share memories, they can help everyone."
Nick stared for a moment. "So mine will . . . ."
"Yep!"
"Is it going to know what I'm doing here?"
"Yes."
Nick shook his head. " . . . I'm confused."
"Oh! Don't worry; the Doubles aren't going to tell anyone your memories from here. He has his own memories to make. And he won't turn on us, either. He's just you now."
Nick felt a chill run up his spine. ". . . Yeah." No secrets. It must be how they watch us.
"So yeah, if you join Identity, you'll be responsible for creating Doubles and managing them. And you'll be led by Carmen Arroyo."
"Definitely not," Nick said. "Just as a note, I'm not going to choose anything that isn't, like, proactive."
"That's fair," Regis said. "The rest of the Sects are probably not going to be your thing, then, though I still have to tour them."
Nick nodded. "Lead the way."
While walking, Nick spotted a dark building in the distance that seemed to be separate from the rest of Prostasia, like it didn't belong. It almost looked like a black castle. "What's that?" he pointed.
Regis turned his head and pushed up his glasses. "Oh, that's a newer building. It's called The Hold."
"The Hold. Is it like a jail? You have a jail here?"
Regis snickered. "Heavens, no. A Mortal Guard member would never behave so inappropriately and still be here. That's where we keep the creatures that work for the Mortal Guard."
"There are creatures in there?"
"Yes! They live, eat, and sleep there."
". . . What kind of creatures?"
"Oh, you know. Vampires, werebeasts, even spirits."
"Oh." Nick froze, his eyes not moving off the building. If what he says is true, then I'm really standing yards away from things I've only heard about.
"Don't worry; they chose to be here, as most of the members did. They won't cause any harm."
Nick looked back at Regis. "That's . . . good. So if someone were to be possessed . . . would you put them there because of the thing inside of them?"
"Well, they'd go to Medical first," Regis said. "A quick exorcism spell might do the trick. If it doesn't, then they'd move to Dream to see if it's a demon. Eventually, yes, they'd end up in the Hold."
Nick felt sick at the idea of Boris being kept there like something other than a mortal. "Can we move on? I know I asked about it, but I'm ready to go."
"Certainly. The next building isn't far, either." And he was undoubtedly correct. The next building they came across looked like a substantial brown office building. Of course, as with any entrance, there was a black shield here with a brain as the symbol. "You've already met the leader of this one," Regis said. "Dante. The silver fox."
"Oh, yeah," Nick nodded.
"The Trauma Sect," Regis announced, holding out his hand. "For all your therapy and post-mission needs."
"Therapy?"
"Yes. This is a newer Sect, as there was an . . . event a little while ago where we lost a substantial amount of members. They created the Sect after a huge push for a place where people can get help with their mental health problems and issues. That push began with the Sect Leader, Dante Tarkov, actually. Naturally, he became the leader. Crazy, huh?!"
"And that event you mentioned was . . . here?"
Regis' face fell, and his head nodded up and down, very slowly. ". . . Yes."
Nick gulped. What could have happened? Whatever it was sounded mortifying. He wanted to know but didn't want to know at the same time. He was feeling that way about a lot of things here.
"Anyway!" Regis spouted, head snapping up. "Members report here after each mission to get therapy and talk about the mission and such."
"Right," the other animal nodded. "Sounds useful."
"And it's free!" the feline added.
"Thankfully," Nick grinned. "Onward?"
"Almost there, Mr. Flynn. Just a bit more to go!"
The next Sect they came upon had been split into three library-looking buildings; the middle one held the shield atop the entrance, decorated with yellow and sporting a piece of paper and quill as the symbol. "This is one of my favorites," Regis said excitedly. "I think I'd join this one if I ever stopped being a Guide."
"What is it?" Nick questioned.
"Scribe Sect, for people who love history and research. The SL, Morgan, is actually a good friend of mine. Even if you choose a different Sect, I'm sure you'll get to know them in time."
"It's different from the other ones," Nick stated.
"Split into three buildings, all with different purposes." The cat pointed a clawed finger at the building to their left. "Creature research and the Bestiary is in there." He moved to point at the middle building. "History of the Mortal Guard and important documents are kept there." He pointed to the last building. "And new spells are created there."
Nick's ears perked. "Oh yeah. A guy lit my cigarette with his finger. He did that using a spell?" Wow, I'm a lot more talkative than in the first half of the tour.
"Simple flame spell. I don't know how to do it, but I know of it. Of course, you're not joining Spellcasting, I assume. And not this one. You'd go mad, huh?"
"My head might explode," Nick teased, making a motion with his hand.
"We can't have that, can we?" Regis smiled, showing his fangs.
"'Course not. I gotta go down fighting, at least." Nick paused for a moment. ". . . They're going to turn me into a monster hunter?"
Regis nodded. "You'll be surprised at what you'll be able to do in a short amount of time."
". . . Yeah." His eyes moved up as he thought for a moment. None of these Sects are going to get me even a little close to helping Boris, other than something that will put me on the front lines. If he causes trouble, then there's a chance I might be able to find him . . . so . . . "I choose the Creature Hunting Sect, then."
Regis stuttered at that. "W-we aren't even done with the tour!"
"Yeah, and? I know you have a job to do, but I made my choice."
"You'd be surprised that everyone else waits till the end of the tour to tell me that . . . ."
Nick huffed. "The rest of these Sects aren't gonna do shit for my friend. Excuse my language, but if I'm going to protect him like I promised, I need to actually be making progress and learn about the supernatural. Then I can kill whatever's inside of him!" His tone became more aggressive as he spoke, and he realized it only after he finished. ". . . Sorry."
"Your friend is possessed?"
"They already know," Nick said. "But yeah. And, to be honest, I don't feel like they're going to save him."
"What do you think they're going to do?" Regis asked, genuinely interested.
". . . Nothing. I'll find him and save him. I just need to get better first. So let's finish this tour so I can go to the Institute, or whatever."
Regis blinked a few times. Was what they told me wrong? "Yes, sir. Right this way."
Finally, they came across another black building with green windows. It looked somewhat intimidating, almost like the lair of a mad scientist or many mad scientists.  The shield above the entrance was green and had a symbol of, well, Nick couldn't tell what it was. It was like two parallel lines with tick marks along them. The top line had a dot on the leftmost tick mark, while the right had a dot on the right side.
"Timeline Travel," Regis revealed, and the lines immediately made sense.
Nick couldn't comprehend what he had just heard. "Tell me you're kidding. Timeline Travel? That's possible?"
"Oh yes! Very. There are a lot of rules, but—"
"This is the one," Nick cut him off, grabbing his shoulders. "I have to be a part of this one. If I can go back, maybe I could—"
Regis brought one of his hands up and grabbed Nick's, pulling it off his shoulder. "I'm afraid it's not as easy as you think. There are many rules that I don't have time to go over with you, but trust me, this won't help your friend. We  can't change the main timeline."
Even though those words sounded ludicrous, like part of some science-fiction movie, Nick still felt upset at his response. "What's the point, then?"
"Think about it!" Regis said. "If all the members that were a part of that Sect were constantly changing the main timeline, then . . . ."
"I guess it'd be pretty messed up," Nick sighed. "So what is the point, then?"
"Intel. Gathering info on past events so we can better understand why they happened. Or figuring out how something happened. It makes a lot more sense when you're part of it."
Nick's hands flew up. "None of this makes any sense! I can't tell if I went insane or what?" His arms fell. "But I don't care. I can tell this will help me save Boris."
"You're close, huh?" Regis asked.
"He's been through a lot. If you knew, you'd understand. He doesn't deserve anything that's happening to him, and he has no one else. So I feel like it's my responsibility. He came to me for help. So I'm going to help him with this new power you're giving me."
The cat wiped his eyes after Nick finished speaking. "Wow . . . "
The hyena tilted his head. "What?"
"There are a lot of people I wish I could help in my time, but never rose up or had the strength. You're so young and so determined. It's admirable."
"I don't care about that." Nick waved him off. "I don't care about being a hero or savior or whatever. I just care about helping Boris."
"Oh, uh, well . . . " Regis pushed up his thin glasses again. "We only have one last place to visit before we send you to the Institute."
"Okay."
While walking, the two came across a ground that seemed to be moving. It was like those flat escalators they had at airports.
"These are our moving walkways," Regis explained, gesturing for Nick to step onto it. "They'll take us to the Residential District." The hyena wearily raised a foot and stepped on, wobbling for a moment before regaining his balance. Regis followed behind him. They stood, silent for a moment as it carried them along.
The Guide spoke a few seconds later. "We didn't use to have moving walkways, but with how fast Residential grows, we needed them. I'm just going to take you to Row 1."
"Sounds good," Nick said, still grappling with the fact that other timelines existed. And if different timelines existed, could animals from there come here? How did it all work? How did this all work?
A minute or two later, they reached their destination, toward the edge of Prostasia. It was a very long greenish building that seemed to stretch on and on for miles. Nick first thought that it looked like the most massive motel in existence. Though, there was a cozy quality to it.
"So," Regis continued. "This is the Residential District, where all licensed members live and dwell. It's split into four rows. Row 1 is for animals who live alone, Row 2 is for couples and pairs, Row 3 is for three animals, and Row 4 is for four or more animals. Simple enough?"
"You have couples here?"
"Yes!"
"Huh. I'd think people wouldn't have time for stuff like that here."
"Oh, we're very supportive of relationships here. Relationships boost morale, disintegrate loneliness, and bring new members!" Regis looked at him. "You could meet your dream animal here."
Nick rolled his eyes. "Don't really care about that, either."
"Suit yourself," Regis responded. "And so that's the end of the tour!"
"Well, that was . . . a lot," Nick said, almost breathlessly. "My head hurts."
"That's a common reaction. Oh yes, I'm required to tell you that you can choose more than one Sect if you'd like."
"More than one?" Nick's brows furrowed. "I can barely handle just the information about all of them. I'll stick with Creature Hunting, thanks."
"I'll let Iwai know right away," Regis nodded, writing something down on the clipboard, presumably making it official that Nick was now part of that Sect.
The hyena looked around. "Uh . . . you never showed me the Institute."
"Ah, of course. I need to take you there. It's not in this dimension," Regis said, as if that was just something ordinary people talked about.
Nick's emerald eyes bugged out. "I'm .  . . going to another dimension?"
"To be fair, this is a different one than the Mortal Realm."
"Do I have to take a tour of that one, too?"
"Well, yes, but it won't be nearly as long. The Institute is like one huge building. You'll be licensed before you know it. Let's go to the Station so I can hand you off to them."
Back at the Station, Nick and Regis walked down the dark red carpet until they came across a large open green portal that animals were constantly walking into and out of.  "There won't be much time to talk inside, Mr. Flynn, so I just wanted to say that I am glad I got to guide you around today," Regis beamed. "Even though you don't care about it, I admire your devotion to your friend." They stepped up to the portal. "So I guess the last thing I want to say is . . . good luck. I know you can do it."
Nick, keeping a serious face, looked right at him. "It's not that I can. I will."
The feline swallowed. "You're not going to do anything . . . rash, right?"
The hyena didn't respond as they walked forward, entering the gateway and leaving an air of uncertainty between them, ending the tour on an unsure note.