11. Adrift
The sound of trees rustling in the wind filled Jenny’s ears. It was comforting, soothing... so nostalgic and warm that she wanted to cry. Her eyes were shut, and she was drifting. Floating. Wait. I don’t know how to swim.
With a shudder, she sucked in a breath and opened her eyes to see a sky full of countless stars. Billions upon billions of them. She’d only ever seen three or four at most growing up in the city. Is this what it was like in the countryside? Away from light pollution? Except they weren’t just distant dots of light; she could see each one as though they were right in front of her face.
Holy shit, stars are beautiful. Burning balls of flame, and there were so many colors and sizes, each one distinct and unique. They had dark and light patches, and their surfaces seemed to be shifting. As though they were all oceans of energy, with waves and tides and movement. And they had sound. She could hear the stars. It wasn’t trees rustling in the wind she’d heard before; it was the sound of stars.
Everything blurred in and out of focus. Jenny realized the stars themselves were moving across the night sky. Everything hung in a strange balance. Everything was floating. Just as she was. Tears filled her eyes. There was a beauty to the universe she’d never even fathomed before, a cosmic balance that kept everything in an inexplicable harmony. And there were so many different kinds of stars.
Gigantic red ones that burned ferociously. Bright yellow ones that filled her with a sense of home. And blue ones... these seemed so hot that seemed to draw her in. As though she could leap out of the water and dive into thrumming blue stars with a splash. They reminded her of Susan.
Susan. Is she alright? Is she dead too?
Her thoughts were mush. Her mind felt inside out. She only remembered glimpses of what happened before she'd passed out. There’d been angels, and blood, and her fingers...
Jenny raised her left hand. It was a mangled mess. The only thing she recognized was her thumb. There was no pain, but the odd sensation of trying to move fingers she no longer had made her uneasy. As if that wasn’t enough, she saw her pale skin in immense detail, just as she could the stars. She could see the little pores, the tiny nearly invisible hairs. Her bones and the fluid between them. She could hear blood moving through veins, sounding like water in the pipes of her home. She could see individual tiny cells, expanding and retracting and wriggling.
Water trailed down her bare arm. Her armor was gone, and she was drifting completely naked. She raised her other hand, and through this one's fingers, she looked at the stars again, focusing in on an enormous blue one. It felt like it was just out of reach, like she could grab it and squeeze it in her hand and never let go.
What would it be like to bite into a star?
Am I dead?
Why am I so hungry?
The wind picked up, sending chills up and down her body. She was naked and wet and trembling; she wrapped her arms around herself.
How do I get out of here if I can’t swim? And why is the afterlife so cold?
As if the water sensed her thoughts, it parted slightly. The waves moved gently away from her legs so that her feet lowered. She felt like she was on a reclining chair, except it was made of water, and it was freezing. Her toes touched sand, and she was standing now, the water coming up to her navel. At least I won’t drown.
Jenny’s teeth chattered. Her body trembled. The water was dark and featureless except for the ripples and little waves from her movements. Even though the night sky was full to bursting with stars, the water reflected nothing. She felt like a pale ghost standing in liquid darkness.
In the distance, she could see trees. She was standing in a lake surrounded on all sides by forest. Just as it had been with the stars, she could see every individual leaf. She could see the veins on the leaves and holes from insect bites. She could see the scars on the tree bark, the branches that twisted this way and that. Bugs crawled up the roots, rested on the leaves, and hid inside little holes. She could see their reflective exoskeletons, count the many legs, and even their tiny compound eyes.
She didn’t recognize any of their species. As curious as she was, the sensory overload was getting to her. She saw too much, could hear too much, and it was so cold now that her body was going numb.
“Hello?” she called out, but her voice was barely a raspy whisper. She tried again, this time shouting at the top of her lungs, but instead of hello, her voice morphed into a desperate scream.
As soon as she ran out of breath, the stars blinked. Every single one of them went dark in unison then came back before going dark again. Jenny stumbled back, splashing through the water, feeling sand kicking up with her every step as she turned, staring at the night.
With each blink, the stars moved closer and closer to the center of the sky, above her head. They knocked into one another, each collision like balls of liquid fire crashing together. Jenny clapped her hands over her ears. It felt like she was in a movie theater watching footage of the atomic bomb. Except the speakers were right next to her ears with the volume set way beyond the max.
She watched as the stars coalesced. They turned into one big wriggling mass, burning white and yellow with flashes of blue and red. The colors churned into one another as the coagulating mass shrunk, glowing brighter and brighter, before finally settling into a silver hue. Almost like moonlight, it was the only source of light left in the sky.
It blinked again, and this time Jenny wasn’t sure if that thing had blinked or if she had. Then it poured like a silver waterfall from the sky and into the dark water where she stood. It didn’t disturb the waves. There was no sound, no splashing or splattering; it was graceful and eloquent, and once the big orb of light in the sky had fully drained, the only light left was the shimmering spread of silver in the water.
Jenny didn’t know what to make of it. Is this what it was like to trip on acid? I should’ve experimented with more than weed.
She stepped back slowly, watching the silver light spread as the waves began to churn. The light shook and bounced as the water foamed and frothed. There was nothing like this in the Bible. Or the Quran. Or any of the other scriptures she’d studied. Was this from Hindu mythology then? Egyptian? One of the Native American beliefs?
From the foaming waters, a figure emerged: a woman dressed in a long flowing gown of silver light. She had no face, no hair. No discernable features other than a humanoid shape. She was the same silver as the light, and she took a step forward, revealing a slender leg. She walked on the surface of the water.
Jenny took another step back. Almost like a reflex, she tried to summon her hatchet, but there was no response. Then, before she could even cry out, the silver figure stood right in front of her.
She stared up at it. It wasn’t a woman anymore. Now it was a man, with wider shoulders and a muscular form. It still wore the same gown, and it sat down, cross-legged, turning into a thin little boy. Then a girl. Then once more into a woman. With each transition, the silver of its body melted and wiggled and shifted like gelatinous metal.
It sat on the water’s surface, its hands resting on its thighs. Since it had no facial features, Jenny couldn’t tell if it was staring or not.
Welcome, Jenny Huang.
Jenny’s eyes went wide. She knew it was talking to her, but it wasn’t speaking. It didn’t have lips. And the words appeared in her mind like the notifications from the system thing did.
Suddenly, her memories became clear, rising up quickly and painfully. The angels she’d fought and killed flashed through her head. Their bony bodies, their blank eyes, the blood... she saw Susan too, clearly this time. Her blue hair, the matching armor, the pink helmet. Then she remembered the two Imperfect Angels... her fingers chewed off. Teeth pressed against her throat. That bright light that drove the angels away.
“What are you?” whispered Jenny, stepping back again through the water. “Where am I?”
The figure shifted again. Turning into a hunched-over elderly man.
You are in the Seventh World.
Unnamed.
Unexplored.
Unbecoming.
“What?” she asked, blinking at the silver figure. What was it even talking about? “Am I dead?”
Death is the Third World.
This is not Death.
It shifted again. This time into a short curvy woman. A slit appeared horizontally across the bottom of its face. It turned into lips. It smiled.
Why do you not fear?
I only sense confusion.
“I’ve had enough of fear,” said Jenny, bitterly. Compared to the angels, this was far less frightening. She clutched her injured hand. If I'm not dead, and this is some weird fucked up dream, then I have to wake up. Right now. She squeezed as hard as she could, crushing what was left of her fingers. But it didn’t hurt at all. She only felt cold.
I assure you this is not a dream.
Jenny clenched her teeth. “You can read my thoughts?”
I am already a part of your thoughts.
“So, you’re the guidance system then? That thing in my head? What are you?”
I have been known by many names.
Chaos.
Entropy.
Eve.
This time, the thought message came with imagery: a whirling mass of stars and planets, everything rushing in elliptical patterns, colliding, separating, condensing to form new stars and new planets and all their many features. Oceans and landmasses, forests and mountains, and underground caverns. Civilizations rose and fell, countless creatures struggling and fighting and dying in the seas, on the lands, and even in the skies.
Storms filled her vision before giving away to the emptiness of space. Then she saw a luscious garden. A male form strolled through it till he reached a female form. They were both naked, and when their bodies touched, the vision turned into blinding light before fading into darkness.
I am still forming.
Naming.
Exploring.
Becoming.
Jenny thought her mind would explode. She shut her eyes and squeezed her injured hand, dropping to her knees with a splash. Only her head was above the water. She had so many questions. What were these numbered worlds? Why did it call itself Eve? What did any of this mean?
I am of imagination.
The source and the manifestation.
I am what I am.
Jenny inhaled loudly through her nose, trying to make sense of it. “So, what is all this? Why am I here? Why are you talking to me? I’m nothing special.” I just want to live my damn life. Is that too much to ask for?
The dark water rose up all of a sudden, and Jenny found herself submerged completely, holding her breath and staring at the silver figure. It now had three heads, a woman’s body, and the gown was gone. It shone so bright that Jenny had to squint, but it looked like each head had a face now. Three sets of large eyes stared back at her.
All beings are special.