Iker? Bastian asked. Iker recognized what he heard in his mind's ear; it was an esper mindlink.
Why is our father not on our side? Who's messing with reality and time? Iker asked.
Iker, you'll need to stay out of this. I am going to start the protocol to wake you up, Bastian explained. I have no idea where and when you'll wake up. I am getting back to you no matter what.
Bastian. Do. Not. Follow. Me. I'm stopping Maverick from kidnapping Primetime, Uzi reprimanded.
Wait... how do I recognize you Uzi? Iker asked.
I am not going without you Uzi, Bastian declared. We are both fighting this together. You have better chances of changing Wexil's mind than mine.
Iker was still beyond confused, but even across this mindlink that spanned across realities, the tension between his vanished brother and a forgotten comrade was quite palpable. However, he did know Wexil's name from a conspiracy theory.
Uzi? Bastian asked after a deliberately long pause from the arak.
... there was only one time you were this stubborn. I... it's best I don't bring it up. I'll have faith it won't happen.
Even though Iker's mind was a mixture of muddy memories across the past, present, and future, he was still too young to read in between the lines of the conversation between the arak and the human. Across the realities this mindlink spanned, their fear was palpable too.
Uzi... I have never... I have never had a loop where everything changed this much, Bastian murmured while on the verge of panicking. There were just... little differences I already knew would be there.
When it's your turn to be uncertain I will always have your back, Uzi reassured Bastian. Before even the first reset... before multiple resets would blend together and disregard continuity altogether... did we ever believe we could last this long against gods as mere flux users?
Bolsa Mágica had finally finished jaunting Bastian and Iker—or at least Iker believed that the magical simulation was jaunting them—and their floating and invisible minds flying across blurring battle stages belonged to many realities. It was uncertain as to whether this state made it easier for Uzi to mindlink the trio, but now the boys' avatars were spawning above rich and vibrant autumn foliage lit up by the bizarre starlight of the bizarre night sky.
"Shit... even the stage is different," Bastian's mouth said, his head not fully digitized. "I don't know jack shit about this place."
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"Do you have your puffer on you?" Iker asked while immobile, uncertain of which parts of his body were present.
"I won't need it here," Bastian replied. "Look! Stay alive until you wake up!"
Iker's eyes followed the direction Bastian pointed with his floating lips, and the notorious supersoldier from one platoon was almost done spawning like the boys were, right at the opposite side which was the perfect distance for the initial start of a match. Her floral pale dress matched perfectly with the clouds that hung so low that they could be mistaken for concentrated fog. Like everyone else in one platoon, she could disregard dress codes and not get in trouble for it. Uniforms was for liberals probably.
Even though the clouds that refused to hover skyward made it hard to see her, Primetime's black bob cut framed her intense gaze. If her brown eyes could say anything, Iker imagined that they would say that she did not consider either Iker or Bastian to be human.
A bright flash lit up the levitating stage, caused by the twirling white tatters in the center that eventually morphed to a divine robe worn by a sentient mannequin. It popped into a t-pose until a red pixel blinked above the neck, and when it remained consistently the entity dropped both of his plastic and metal arms.
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Each player has five hit points while still being allowed to play if they drop to zero.
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With each hit, the player must choose a limb they can no longer use to touch or stand on the stage. The lower the hit points, the further a damaged opponent will fly away from the stage.
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Monica gets further access if Bastian falls off stage. For what reason does she have to be so nosy for? If Iker and Bastian knock Monica out of the stage, then despite of her white rage she'll be... trapped... in a place with a name she cant pronounce? This is an announcer application; comedy is outside of general capabilities.
"I don't care what her name is," Iker said. He was familiar with Primetime because of hologram screens he could watch her on, however because of that, he had no idea he subconsciously remembered her from other timelines too.
However, what Bastian and Uzi had said would come to pass would interrupt the match altogether, announcing itself with magical yet bleak walls spawning around the one platoon jaunter. She, like the boys, were frozen before the match would officially start, and all three of them entered into imposed dramatic poses while the abyssal walls were nearing closer to no longer blinking. Upon Bolsa Mágica making her toes and heels line up perfectly vertically while she curled her open palms and fingers into circling her face, she was locked into the cube made up of walls that belonged to a haunted mansion.
While Iker stood in a pose that flexed his teenage arms as much as they could to the sides of his hips while grasping at nothing menacingly, he observed digital crows and ravens pecking and perching seals into Maverick's prison.
Iker, wake up!
Even though Iker could not move, Bastian knew a way to break the imposed pose apparently, and he was sprinting ahead of Iker frantically. Red gears spawned above him, housing vinyl records. And after him, Iker found the arak he recognized and yet he had no memory of. Vis bubble-wrap eyes above vis fan-shaped floating torso was an unforgettable and comforting sight.
"Uzi! Bastian!" Iker yelled.
Iker, it's not Bastian. It's me Camilo. Wake up!
"Stay back!" Bastian yelled, now Iker having visions of darkness, the battle stage that now was spawning in a glowing lion's head by the wicked moon, a smoggy sky paired with an unforgettable face, and his brother and arak comrade running and flying to battle the suited lion summoning himself and more crows and ravens around the prison.
Iker! Wake up!
Iker knew that voice. He was the definition of winning the genetic lottery, however schoolground rumors said otherwise.
And all the blurring visions ceased.
Only a gray sky, serene silence, and a relieved face remained between the cracks of Iker's eyelids.
"Iker," Camilo whispered.