Conscious, Conscientious

"'Anime Boston', huh?" Deon wondered, stepping through the final of many sliding doors.

A ship worker guided him and the others to the center of the large, dimly-lit room. Now at the bottom of the ship, they joined quite the crowd: Otogi's white-dressed bodyguards, a couple agency bosses, and all of Mr. Truj's and Otogi's training personnel.

Making sure he remained within the circular indentations of the floor as instructed, Deon inched towards his newest teammate.

"Hey, what's anime?"

"Trust me, you're about to find out," Otogi promised.

A round section of the floor separated from the rest with a metallic zing, and the crowd descended into the open air. The cousins' ears filled with city sounds accompanying the views they'd seen from inside: cars hummed, street signals beeped, some men argued in an accent lacking the use of the "r," and the line of attendees chattered and laughed down below.

Even as the consciousness group emerged from the cloaked ship, nobody on the streets below noticed their presence.

Otogi seemed to spot Deon and Lammy's curiosity. He cocked his head at Phillip.

"Illusionists," he explained. "They're stationed all over for these kinds of things."

Like what Phillip did to make us invisible when we landed in Azvaylen, Deon recalled.

The platform touched down on the convention center's roof and everyone promptly dismounted. When Deon and Lammy looked back up to the ship, it was missing–even a shadow was absent.

"Next it's headed for the landing dock a couple roads down, under Charles River," Otogi told them. "The Illusionists on Harvard Bridge have that part covered."

Under the river?? Lammy wondered.

Following the crowd, the team worked their way across the roof and neared the back corner. Lammy's gaze still lingered on the sky, however, where a now-invisible Kotono had quietly stayed behind.

He felt a hand subtley pat his shoulder.

"I know," Skrili whispered beside him.

Deon massaged them both from behind. "The fight's tonight," he noted over their shoulders. "We gotta check on her before then."

"We'll see her in a bit, don't worry," Otogi called back. "She's signing in down there. They wanted all of us too, actually, for security."

Their toes all reached the very tip of the roof.

"But I thought showing you guys Normal Country this way," Otogi said, "would be way more fun."

The personnel all stepped off the building, and Otogi and Skrili followed. So warily, Deon, Lammy, and Phillip joined.

Their hearts eased in unison as they felt an invisible surface beneath them. It curved downward towards the sidewalk below.

"Imaginers," Otogi filled them in.

Skrili's slow sigh caught Deon's attention. Her walk was almost serene.

"What's with the bliss?"

"It's nice not to be the one explaining everything for once," she rejoiced, basking in the sunlight.

Otogi offered her a fist-hump. "Ha. I've got you."

"Hey–what's that supposed to…" Deon didn't bother finishing, as all of their previous travels returned to his mind. "Eh, actually, that's fair."

Their feet touched down onto the sidewalk, on a street much less busy than where the line of attendees waited. Two men leaned against the building casually, but unlike everyone else, they could see Deon and the others approach.

They gave brief nods, so Deon and Lammy guessed they were the Illusionist and Imaginer responsible for their stealth.

So unassuming…Lammy observed. They really have this whole arrangement down.

Otogi's bodyguards led the way, with two more at the back. Finally Lammy realized their outfits were a bit different today: though still in white, they all wore simple t-shirts and sweatshirts instead of their suits. Before turning the corner, some even whipped out sunglasses and caps with logos on the front.

The group reached the street with the line of eager convention-goers, and only took a few steps before arriving at the back of it. But the entrance to Hynes Convention Center wasn't far, and the line moved steadily–about as gradual as the Fantasy Country borders.

After a couple of absent glances from passersbys, Deon realized they were no longer invisible. He observed the diverse crowd again.

Ahead of them, a teen with pink hair looked their way, then quickly turned. But eyes shining, they looked again–even leaning a bit past the disguised bodyguards–and sent Skrili a wink.

A moment later, their companions snuck similar glances before whispering giddily amongst themselves.

"Consciousnesses," Otogi easily identified. "And big fans of yours, it looks like."

"Only because you're not in costume," reasoned Skrili.

"Nah…"

"I would've thought they'd freak out way more, like your other fans," said Deon. "People are really good at keeping a secret here, huh?"

"Well, there are huge penalties for giving it away," Otogi said. "But I'm sure respect is a part of it."

They found themselves inside the center within a couple minutes. After stepping through gray arches Otogi called 'metal detectors,' following the flow of people down a few halls, and checking in for 'Anime Boston' instead of the Special League Event, the cousins stood with their group just before the main entrance.

Lammy lifted the new laminate intermingling around his neck with Layla's necklace. It certainly was odd that all of them–even him–were registered in a database for an event they weren't here to attend.

"So 'anime' is the disguise?" he gathered.

Otogi's bodyguards followed him through the large, open doors into the lobby. "For us, yes," he said. "But for all the non-consciousnesses here: it's their life."

They rode up a row of black moving stairs amongst countless others until it opened up to a long room filled with life.

As it turned out, all the vibrancy the common citizens of Boston seemed to lack was contained in this building. The same elation they'd seen at Gloat Center was all around them once more.

People in extravagant outfits stood on display, posing gladly at every request to have their image frozen on devices starkly similar to TeamTracks.

One of them was a skull-faced man with glowing red eyes. Lammy marveled at how much magic the jewels on his golden staff must contain.

Wait…this is Normal Country, he remembered. So it's just for looks?

As they continued along, Lammy observed the schedule he'd received upon signing in. He blinked in puzzlement.

Wait a second…

On the cover, two individuals wielded swords over a soft-textured background.

Lammy studied the image. The flat nature of the people and background perfectly matched the laws of reality everywhere else he'd traveled in the Multiverse. Plus, the vibrant, darkly-outlined shading appeared exactly like the color palette of Mainland Fantasy Country.

Looking at this book cover was like looking through a window to another very real–yet very different place.

Lammy had to blink to relieve the disorientation.

"Oh, hey! It's the Fullmetal Consciousnesst!" Deon noticed beside him.

"Deon, wait–" tried Skrili.

"Hey! Fullmetal Consciousnesst!"

Deon jogged away from the group towards his peculiar opponent from months ago, the long red robe and yellow ponytail unmistakable. He knew the Consciousnesst was from this Country, but what were the odds they'd cross paths so quickly?

"Fullmetal Consciousnesst," Deon greeted as he drew close. "Long time no see. Did you ever end up finding that Imaginer's Rock thing?"

When the man turned to face him, however, his face was grimaced in confusion. And not only was it younger, but much more feminine than Deon recalled.

"Huh? You mean the 'Philosopher's Stone?" corrected the apparent stranger. "And it's Fullmetal Alchemist. You've never watched it before?"

Deon froze, color leaving his face.

Right…no Multiverse stuff. Crap. But…but she's dressed just like him!

"I totally recommend the show if you haven't. It slaps," the girl said, her voice much friendlier now. "Way better than all the isekai stuff everyone's obsessed with now. Though No Game No Life and Re:Zero are pretty decent, I'll give them that."

"Uh…right. I definitely understood all of those words," Deon said.

"Anyway, I love your eye contacts. So lifelike," the girl continued. "Who are you cosplaying?"

What are all these terms?! Deon panicked. He hunted his mind for what little Normal Country lingo he could confidently state.

"Uh…I'm…" he stammered, "the uh…Anime…Man. The Anime Man."

"What?!" the girl laughed. "But you don't look anything like Joey! I love his podcast though–"

Deon felt a familiar yank on his collar.

For once, he appreciated Skrili's secondhand embarrassment as she tugged him back to safety within the group.

"Stay with us, Mr. Stutter," one of Otogi's bodyguards urged under his breath.

"Right…my bad…"

Otogi and the undercover guards turned left towards an adjacent room–one that proved even bigger and denser than the first. Eyes beaming, Deon wondered how they could expect him not to get any more distracted.

It was like a crash-course in Gloat Stadium's festivities, all condensed into a singular place. Booths and tables were set up everywhere, filled to the brim with art and eager buyers.

Passing by more colorful works on books, t-shirts, and posters, Lammy once again had to steady his mind.

"Is it me, or…is a lot of this stuff…familiar?" he asked his cousin.

"I was thinking the same thing."

"So do you guys get it yet?" Otogi laughed. "These concepts and aesthetics have become an art form here, and people grew to love it. So many great stories get told through anime…but they don't even realize where it comes from: that it's all real beyond their Worldline."

They paused so a small group could pass by and rush towards a booth of figurines.

"Consciousnesses have existed in Normal Country as long as all the other Countries–around a thousand years–but they're actually pretty new to the League," said Otogi.

They walked past a table where a sequence of art pieces were on display: from old, colorless sketches to the glossy images they'd seen everywhere else in this place. Otogi pointed his thumb towards it.

"The story goes that almost eighty Earth years back, a consciousness artist returned from his Multiverse travels to his war-torn home in Japan. To make his neighbors smile again without giving the secret away, he ended up combining the evolving art styles of his people with the real adventures he'd secretly had and places he'd seen. Other artists started catching on, the art form grew, and…bam. Here we are. Anime, all the way across their planet."

"So that's why they started being able to take the League here," Lammy connected. "Anime grew into something that mirrors the Multiverse."

"They can hide it without hiding it," Skrili confirmed. "Well…without hiding some of it."

Lammy and Deon slowed at Skrili's words, realizing Otogi had guided them all to a specific booth in the far corner of the room. It appeared no different than all the others, with a humble display of books labeled 'manga' and a single person on duty.

But one of the bodyguards stepped close and checked out a copy.

"I think I've read this volume before," he commented.

The statement lured the vendor closer. "Really? But it just released today," he pointed out."

"Weird. Well, gee. Maybe it's a different one," said the guard quickly. "Is this the one where they come from space?"

"That depends. When would they arrive?"

"Early," the guard said decidedly. "I just hope they don't bring the rain with them."

Deon and Lammy exchanged furrowed eyebrows.

But the vendor nodded in conclusion. "Eight?"

"Eight. Three stars."

He turned and beckoned them all to follow him. Only then did they notice the black curtain at the end of the table. One by one, the vendor ushered them behind it, and the cousins' anticipation soared high.

But instead of finding another sneaky Normal Country trick, they simply found the other side of the curtain and the wall.

"Brilliantly done," Phillip muttered just over their shoulders, admiring their bland new surroundings.

"I mean, I guess the curtain is pretty symmetrical…" manifested Deon.

"Not that. To the naked eye, this appears equal to the rest of our surroundings," elaborated the Illusionist.

"It's…not?"

"Then what is it?" probed Lammy.

For a split moment, he thought he was sinking into the floor–or perhaps melting. But he realized neither was true, as the floor itself was sinking.

Much like the platforms in Team Hiroko's ship that rose from level to level soundlessly, this square of flooring descended from the room around it. They entered a dark abyss.

But then lights faded on, and this platform's true form–the one Phillip could see through the illusion–revealed itself to everyone else. It was a simple square room, and the dark earthy textures beyond its glass walls passed them by as it took them deeper.

"Well, no need to be subtle anymore," Otogi decided. "I'm sure fans are hoping to get signatures if they run into me. Time to switch."

He took a mirror from his pocket, just like last time in Volona's office building. Lammy and the others stepped aside, watching for the extravagant metamorphosis.

But it never happened. This time his guards noticed the mirror gesture and sprung into action. They surrounded him, some whipping out pieces of sleek clothing.

"...Eh?" Deon and Lammy uttered.

They all watched as the much-less glorious transformation occurred, shuffling and zipping filling the silence.

Then, when the bodyguards stepped back, the pink-haired, suave Otogi had emerged in a cool pose.

I guess when there's no magic, you gotta do what you gotta do, Lammy figured.

Soon sweeping hums and hisses from outside the walls became the next sound to fill the moving room. But they still couldn't see a thing through the glass.

"This goes by the underground highways that run right underneath Hyne's and through the city," Otogi shared. "And all the activity through there helps mask all the stuff we do underneath…in here."

As if on cue, the darkness beyond the sinking room opened up, and they may as well have entered another world.

A stadium, undeniably for Conscious Competitions, waited beneath the high ceiling they were lowering from. Its seating arrangements were nearly identical to Gloat Stadium, though this place carried an earthier theme of bronzes and browns. The fighting platform was the same as well, and in place of the dragon logo in its center was a simple emblem of Earth.

There was a dimness–or perhaps warmth–to this stadium compared to its Fantasy Country counterpart. Lammy attributed it to the closed ceiling, as opposed to Gloat Stadium's open, airy layout. After all, it made sense not to need flying space or elevated viewing for dragons and winged beings here.

"Hynes Stadium," Otogi introduced. "One of Earth's secret League attractions."

"I came here once with Pang," said Skrili. "They've upgraded a bit."

Dozens of consciousnesses of all ages were already filing in and finding their seats, with their cushions, snacks, and signs ready to go.

Along the other corners of the massive room, several other square capsules were lowering to the bottom floor with their own passengers; clearly, there were several ways to get here from above. Lammy wondered which other sections of Anime Boston were actually secret entryways for this event.

The capsules disappeared behind the raised seating, and soon, Team Hiroko's did the same. A wall blocked their view for a moment until they eased to a stop before a hallway leading into the stadium.

But instead, a hiss resounded behind them. The cousins turned to find the back wall of their capsule sliding open to a separate, green-tinted hallway. Otogi and his guards were already heading that way, so the group followed.

The chatter of early fans faded behind them. Deon looked back, watching the capsule close and ascend. His body itched to head into the stadium. The utter electricity of the Fantasy Country Conscious Competition had hit him all at once. He needed to feel that life again.

And this time–finally–he would be a part of the spectacle.

But it seemed that had to wait for now.

"Almost there. Our dressing room should be on this side," Otogi assured back to them.

They all turned the corner, and immediately found company.

"There he is. The man himself."

Opposite from the way they were all heading, two tall men leaned against the wall.

Otogi's smile grew with familiarity. He halted his guards and met these acquaintances, who rose to exchange fist-bumps.

Everything about them made Otogi–and all of them, for that matter–appear like children in comparison. They towered over everyone but Phillip and the guards, and their tight, sleeveless outfits showed off tattooed muscles Deon doubted he could ever build.

Nonetheless, Otogi stood confidently as he arched to look up at them.

"The Bowler Brothers. Always a pleasure," he greeted.

By their matching, armor-like black clothes and similarly bony faces, Deon and Lammy had already derived they were related. Besides the color, even their hairstyle was the same: bald besides a single line up the middle.

"When was the last time we fought each other, huh? Back in Fiction Country?" the brother with pale orange hair reminisced. "You got us good that time, man. Won't pull one on us tonight!"

Oh…so these are two of the guys we're up against, noted Deon, their name finally ringing a bell.

"I don't know, Bart," snickered Otogi. "My new team's looking real good, just saying."

The brothers did little more than scan Deon, Skrili, and Phillip for less than a second. They returned to Otogi before Deon could even attempt a greeting.

The one with icy-blue hair patted Otogi's arm. "So tell me, man…what's going on? Like…what's the deal?"

"Not sure what you're getting at, Martin," laughed Otogi.

"Dude. Yes you do."

The air of friendliness in the hall shuttered for a moment.

"Pro-to-pro, I gotta ask where your head's at," Martin elaborated kindly. "I mean…you split with your longtime teammate for this. You and Terbius were changing the game for years. I know he's gotta be hurting."

"We're still friendly," Otogi insisted.

"Good, good. I mean…it's gotta be worth walking away from all of that. So…why sign onto this? All these rookies freeing up a bigger bag?"

Bart laughed. "Nah, it's cuz he gets to be around Kotono now…if you know what I mean."

He chuckled and nudged Otogi.

"Those are press rumors, guys," promised Otogi. "And yeah–it's a hefty sum. But it's all going towards finding Pang Pereo. 100% of it."

"That's so awesome, man. Really," Martin applauded. "'Team Hiroko.' Honoring what Hiroko would do. It's incredible. Would've loved to be a part of that, you know?"

Martin and Bart's faces remained just as smiley. But somehow, the air felt thinner.

Otogi's smile finally wavered.

"Just saying. 'Cuz when we heard about Hiroko, it broke us down," Martin continued. "We thought, 'if we have to do this Special Team without her, we're gonna do it for her.' We were talking about trading for a couple old buddies. Could have been you and Terbius!"

"That was my first choice," Bart chimed in. "Kotono's management liked it."

Lammy caught Deon's increasingly wary eyes.

Wait…these guys were supposed to be part of Hiroko and Kotono's original Special Team? they both realized.

"Imagine that, Otogi…the five of us would completely dominate this Special League. What better way to honor Hiroko, right?" pressed Martin. "But…it's so weird. Once we lose her, they drop us."

"And they replace us with all newbies, besides you," Bart added.

Even still, neither brother looked their way.

"I mean, don't you think that's a little weird…?" Martin asked him. "What do these kids know about honoring Hiroko's legacy compared to us? Weren't we already the right move?"

Deon tensed. But he felt Skrili's hand grab him before he could speak up.

Otogi remained still and unwavering. But his smile was fully gone.

"Believe it or not, these 'kids' know more about honoring Hiroko than me," he uttered. "And more than you guys ever will."

Otogi backed up to stand amongst his group.

"This is my team," he said flatly. "And they're the only right choices for Team Hiroko. I don't need to explain it to you."

Finally, Deon could see all the way through the Bowler Brothers.

Their still-lingering smiles, their friendly speech…

None of it was genuine.

But Deon's fire of rage morphed into one of passion as he watched Otogi. His new teammate said everything he was about to spout, but with much more poise and authority.

And all without giving away their true cause.

Bart let out a laugh. "Yeah? Okay."

"A trade's not off the table," offered Martin. "We're carrying the team Credo stuck us with."

"This is my team," Otogi reiterated.

Exchanging glances full of unspoken frustration, the brothers finally turned away and wandered off down the hall.

"We'll see if you say that after the fight," one of them called back before they disappeared into another room.

Otogi sighed. "Sorry about that, guys. Come on."

The group resumed their walk, but they all found themselves moving faster than before.

A natural intensity had awoken between them all.

Lammly glanced at each of his fighter friends. The hardness in all of their faces were the same, and it was increasing with each step.

A chill shot through him: he was witnessing the evolution of a new team.

Whatever I can do to help…I have your backs, he promised quietly.

Oddly, however, the chill remained. In fact, it grew colder.

Soon Lammy realized it wasn't just a sensation of his mind: the hallway was literally growing colder.

All around them, the green-tinted lighting was losing its color. Then, everything weakened to gray.

The door to their dressing room was just ahead. And there, Lammy saw the source.

Lifeless fog was emitting through the cracks and starving the hall of color.

The teammates all looked to each other, but none needed to utter a word. They all knew, and their newfound confidence began dwindling.

Their jealous opponents weren't the only challenge before them tonight.

Behind the door, Kotono was crumbling faster than before.