Into The World

#19 - Compos Mentis

Elizabeth peers into the atrium as she digs her hands into her overalls' pockets, "They are replacements, for the erased memories." The shapeshifter rubs her forehead, trying not to dent her regained composure. She glances at the distorted seven and eight-year-olds that try to climb her father's dome, "Where do they have to go now?"

"The incinerator," the guide answers, shrugging her shoulders. Eliza closes her eyes, contemplating a way of getting out. Wait. I have the locket. So I can- "It won't be easy to control," Elizabeth cuts in, crossing her arms. She glances at the gilded accessory around her boss's neck, "Without the locket, things here would've been much worse."

Eliza slams her eyes open, letting out a frustrated sigh. She glances at her ten-year old self, "What should we do then?" Her gaze falls on the scrunched up scroll, "And what was that supposed to contain?" Elizabeth turns back, "That was supposed to be an interface."

"With whom?" She flinches, when she hears a faint hum in her earpiece. "How," She mutters, stroking her now buzzing earpiece. Tech doesn't work here. The guide casts a grin, "The telepath is trying to contact you."

Sue. Eliza immediately taps her earpiece. "Sue," she gasps, glancing at the atrium. "The ball melted out of my hand. And how did Dad come here?" She bites her lip when she watches Anthony slowly collapse to the floor, the dome around him faltering. "Get us out of here, Sue. Dad's getting defeated here-"

"Liz, slow down."

Eliza gawks upon hearing the clear voice, "Uncle?" The memory guide chokes in reaction, "What?"

"Everything was fine with the procedure," Tom apprises. "Well, until your dad barged in." He lets out a nervous chuckle, "Don't worry now, Liz-"

"What do I do to get us out of here?" The shapeshifter blurts out, biting back her tears as her mom appears before her eyes. "Quick, Dad's running out of time." She glances at the guide who retrieves something from her small pocket. After a prolonged moment of silence, her uncle answers, "Ask the memory guide for her pocket-watch."

The ten-year-old Elizabeth lifts her head, "What? No." She steps back, clasping her bronze pocket-watch. She crinkles her forehead when the shapeshifter nods, "How are you agreeing to this?" She takes a huge step back when her boss turns to face her. "No, Eliza," the guide shakes her head. "Don't even think of doing that."

A deadbeat Anthony succumbs to the inclement floor, using what's left of his might to maintain the durability of his domed forcefield. "Eliza, where are you?" He murmurs, watching the gazillion EBs poke the dome with their inflamed pitchforks.

Clank! Clank! Clank!

The pallid vanisher remains transfixed in his crouched pose, eyes trailing the red-eyed devils who begin to recede from his protective dome. "What was that sound?" he mutters, trying to sit up. He glances at the glitching EBs who scan the dusky surroundings.

"Hey." The horde spin around, lifting their heads to track the amiable voice. "Searching for this?" A figure emerges from the shadowy expanse, her face slightly visible under the moonlight. One of the EBs step forward, "That's the key to the memory hub!" She cries, pointing to the bronze accessory the brunette dangles, with her left hand.

Anthony relaxes his squinted eyes when he recognizes the speaking contour, on the far end of the atrium, "Eliza." He struggles to stand up. "What is she doing there?" He jerks back when a face appears before him, brows furrowed as she examines the translucent barrier. The memory guide places her stubby finger over her lips, eyes glowing violet.

The EBs closest to the dome, don't notice their archenemy behind, as their gaze affixes on the their last, glimmering hope. "So that's what it's called?" The shapeshifter says, glancing at the pocket-watch. The eight-year-olds nod in unison. "Give it to us." The hissed whisper reverberates across the atrium.