Vain survived years in a multi-dimensional, time-displaced Hotel, prisoner to a psychotic lunatic who forced her to pour her power and soul into a bottomless energy well. She had been beaten and healed countless times. Her dearest friend in the world had been targeted and tortured, only to get to her. She had endured through an escape that ended in the death of a companion and nearly killed all of them. Duplicate, murderous thugs had hunted her for a year.
Through the entire experience, she'd held on to her anger; anger at the people who'd done it, anger at the unfairness of it all. She liked it. The rage was a tornado, keeping everything else at bay. With it surrounding her, she'd never experienced fear. Not until now.
Emma terrified her.
She had witnessed Emma grow into her powers, doing things she never believed possible. It seemed almost effortless now, a far cry from that first explosion at the gas station. Emma was the power, and the power was Emma; and it sapped the cheery innocence out of her voice leaving behind only monochrome grey. She was so precise in her actions Vain didn't even feel the tugging lethargy of her pull anymore.
Emma could kill them all without breaking a sweat.
No one knew for sure how powerful Arthur was. People believed he created the Hotel himself. The Hotel, the Well, even the Devices were all rumored to have come from him. How much power would that have taken?
Had she created another Arthur?
Emma stepped through the wreckage of the guard towers, not pausing her horrible, deliberate pace. The ruined metal twisted out of her way, reinforced steel and concrete bending to her will. That wasn't the Emma from the forest, pleading with Vain for help. That was an Emma out of control; so far past the end of her rope the rope wasn't even visible anymore.
Roman's eyes were wide and wild. He held the gun like a phone, gripping it from the side, his finger not even on the trigger. Some of her fear gave way to anger, the same anger that existed whenever Roman was in distress. He needed—he deserved—better. When this business was over, she'd find a way to make it right and give him rest.
Their steady pace brought them close to the front of the squat, rectangular building. The whole thing was windowless and utilitarian. Two broad, steel doors off to their left swung open as they approached. Six Wyatts poured out, all armed with assault weaponry. They provided no warning this time, the times for warnings long since passed. They opened fire.
Vain flinched, as did Roman. Hundreds of fingers poked all over her body; tickling, itching at her, but not painful in the slightest. Pressure from the bullets pushed her back, but she braced against it.
Emma stopped. She didn't throw her arms up to block; she didn't cower, she only considered them, head tilted to the side. The Wyatts lined up in two rows, with the first crouched on a single knee and the back row standing.
The barrage of bullets lasted fifteen seconds and when it ended, the silence between the two groups lasted long enough to become awkward. Vain supposed people normally died after a bullet-based introduction, and there was likely no manual for what to do next.
"Um," said one of the Wyatts. "Get on the ground?"
"Stop?" said another.
Emma considered them. "Leave. Or I will kill you."
How was it possible to wash emotion out of a voice like that?
One Wyatt pulled a knife and launched himself at Roman. Apparently, even when confronted by an energy-wielding superwoman with the power to deflect bullets, the man constituted the bigger threat.
He stabbed at Roman, and the knife bounced out of his grip like he had hit a brick wall. He yelled and clutched his hand. Emma frowned and the Wyatt flew away like a pebble out of a slingshot. One moment he danced from foot to foot in front of Roman, wringing his injured hand, the next he was gone, a dim speck in the sky above.
"Leave," Emma said again. "I am walking. If you are in my way by the time I get to the doors, you will die." With that, Emma took a step forward.
The five remaining Wyatts scrambled out of the way, running into the darkness. Emma squinted and the steel doors blew inward with a deafening crash.
The entrance opened into a large, single space that looked more like an airport lounge than a room. It had seating spread throughout, a small kitchen area with a stove in the corner, and shelves full of supplies lined the walls. That wasn't only a place to transition, this was a refueling station. This where they came out of the Hotel and got themselves ready to go into the world.
In the middle of the open room a giant door frame towered over everything, fifteen feet tall. There was no door in the frame, only a hazy, purple film. It stood in the middle by itself, its presence unremarkable, but Vain's blood chilled when she looked at it. The Portal to the Hotel. She'd found it. After all this time, she'd found it.
Wyatts were scattered throughout the room, looking alarmed and frantic, all pointing guns at them.
They fired.
The noise was deafening. Vain and Roman both screamed. Bullets whizzed through the air and noxious gun smoke filled the room. Emma only stared, head tilted, a tiny half-smile on her face. Vain's bowels loosened.
The shooting lasted twenty seconds. When it was over, the only sounds were the clackity-clack of guns reloading and spent cartridges falling to the floor.
The Wyatts were agitated beyond control. One ran for a nearby gun rack, seemed to think better of it, and instead ran out the back door. Two huddled against each other, backing away. One dropped to his knees and pleaded with them to stop.
One stupider Wyatt dove at Emma from where he had been crouching in the shadows. Emma didn't turn her head or flinch; she only held up her hand and he froze in mid-air before being launched back twenty feet straight into a pile of chairs against the wall.
Five Wyatts, braver than their peers, charged from the right. Screaming, they rushed in to attack. Emma showed no outward reaction, she didn't even glance at them. Their charge slowed, as if they were trying to run through water. They slowed... and stopped. Their feet left the floor while they yelled in protest. They swam and flailed, unable to do anything while Emma trapped them in the air.
The moment of silence stretched into eternity. The Wyatts drifted apart, soundlessly, until they floated a good twenty feet away from each other. Their counterparts on the ground pointed and trembled at the power on display.
With brutal force, Emma slammed them together
The unmistakable crack of bone breaking echoed off the walls. Emma separated the men who were now a groaning, crying mess.
Slam. She brought them together again with horrific force. Blood covered one of the Wyatts' faces; he must have connected with a knee or elbow. She separated them again.
Slam. A third concussion and the only sounds left were soft whimpers. They hung limp, unconscious. One Wyatts' leg twisted at an unnatural angle. Emma was crushing them together with the force of multiple car crashes. It was grotesque. She separated them again, five broken puppets suspended in the air. Vain couldn't take her eyes from the growing pool of blood collecting beneath their fractured bodies.
"Emma." Vain's voice was a whisper.
Slam. Emma drove the Wyatts together again, and this time blood splattered against the walls. Vain heard something tink onto the floor. A tooth. It was too much. Even for her, that was too much. The five Wyatts were broken bags of flesh and blood.
"Emma." Vain grabbed her arm. "Stop. Please."
Emma turned and Vain flinched. It wasn't Emma. Her soft, open face had contorted into a grotesque parody of the girl Vain drove across the country with. Her eyes were dark and angry, and she bared her clenched teeth. The individual veins in her face crisscrossed her cheeks like red pieces of yarn.
"Please." Vain swallowed, wondering if she was going to die. "Stop."
Emma blinked and some small measure of herself returned. She waved a hand and the pile of jangled limbs and splintered bones dropped to the ground.
The remaining Wyatts cowered, too terrified to even breathe.
"Run," said Emma.
That single word cut through the air, and the Wyatts couldn't move fast enough. They ran in every direction, some out the front, some out the back, some diving into Portal, into the safety of the Hotel, pushing each other out of the way. Within twenty seconds the room was empty.
"This is it?" Her voice was empty.
"Yes," Vain said.
They stood in front of the Portal, staring into the purple void. The center of it swirled in a hypnotic circular motion. A small glowing doorknob positioned at the bottom of the frame seemed out of place.
"Look." Vain reached down. "A doorknob. The Portal isn't the Device, the doorknob is." She tried to move it, but it was rooted firmly in place.
"It's pulling at me," said Emma. She ran her hand over the doorknob, almost with affection. "It's singing. Can you hear it? The singing?"
Vain didn't hear anything. Blood from her arm had soaked her sleeve, and she wiped her hand on her jeans. They needed to end it.
"Roman, you go first, then Emma, then me. Okay?"
She had to make sure Emma went through. Roman nodded and, with a deep breath, strode through the door and vanished. His presence winked out, like turning off a TV. There, then gone. Looking bemused, Emma followed. The darkness in the doorway swallowed her.
Vain surveyed the now-empty room. They were so close, and they had made it so far. She couldn't believe they had made it this far. Half-baked was a generous description of Vain's plans, and if she was honest with herself, she was not super confident the latest one was going to work; but she was so tired of being angry. She needed it to end, and made a silent promise to Roman. "If someone dies today, it will be me". Somehow, she'd keep him safe.
She walked through the door.
*
It was like walking into static, or through a wall of bumblebees. Her skin bubbled with the pricks of a million tiny blips of energy. It seemed like she tripled in size while shrinking down to nothing. The single step took forever and no time at all.
She entered a low, circular room, some thirty feet across, lit by an otherworldly, soft-white glow. They'd passed through this place before, during their frantic escape. The walls and floor were made of rough stone and were warm to the touch. On the other side of the room was the door to the Hotel.
"It's almost alive." Emma ran her fingers over the irregular stone walls. "This place hemorrhages energy. If I pulled for the rest of my life, it wouldn't make a dent. It would be like drinking the ocean through a straw."
"Do you have enough left to explode?" asked Vain.
"Yes. Easily." Emma still wore that detached expression on her face.
"How will blowing this up destroy the Portal?" asked Roman.
"It will." Vain tried to keep her voice confident. Now that she was standing in the center of all that power, she honestly had no idea if it would work. It seemed like trying to destroy a dam with a firecracker.
They reached the center of the room when the door at the opposite end slammed open. Like a blizzard, wind swirled around their bodies and was sucked towards the opening. Roman positioned Vain and Emma behind him and held his gun out.
"Please." The voice coming through the door dripped with mild disgust. "We're well past the point of guns."
Trick stepped through, carrying a massive golf umbrella.
"Jesus Christ," said Vain.
Even behind the brace on his nose, he was sharp and well put together. Stupid, annoyingly good-looking Trick, always showing up where he didn't belong. He opened the umbrella and positioned himself behind it, making himself untouchable to their power.
"How did you beat us here?" she asked.
"I am aware that airplanes exist." He shrugged. "What did you do to my Wyatts? They're incoherent with fear."
"Get out of our way, Trick," Roman said.
He ignored them both and turned his attention to Emma. "I wish we had more time together, Emma." Trick closed the Hotel door behind him and the wind vanished, leaving an eerie silence in the room. "I told Arthur about all the wonderful things you can do, and he very much wants to meet you. I'm sorry you ended up with these two first. It would have been so much different if we worked together."
Emma cocked her head to the side like she was listening to someone speak in her ear. Maybe she was. She said, "You aren't afraid, and I don't know why. You should be."
"Arthur can tell what people are feeling too," he said. "Arthur can do many things. You're only scratching the surface of your power. Let us teach you. Listen, when we had the Wyatts take you, we didn't realize what you were. We would have done it differently had we known. It was our mistake. We thought you were like these two." He gestured at her and Roman. "Empty vessels, waiting to be activated for use. We take them, turn them on and wipe their memory, but that's only for their benefit."
"For our benefit?" Vain said, eyes goggling. "You stole our memories, you stole everything that makes me myself. You stole my name. And you want me to believe you did this for us?"
"Yes. In the early days, we did it differently. We told people our purpose in the Hotel and why they were needed. Many of them stayed with us, but it became painful for them. It's hard to leave your life behind, even when the reason is noble. It was hard for us to watch and hard for them to adjust. So, we came up with this solution. We free you of your memories so you can focus on the present. It's easier for you."
"Easier?" she said. "You made us slaves."
He smiled. "You don't know anything. You don't understand the work we do in the Hotel. We do everything we can to make things as easy for you as possible."
"You beat me almost to death," said Roman, his hand clenched at his side, the other gripping the gun.
"Different people need different encouragement." Trick shrugged. "We've only had to take those drastic measures with Vain. Ultimately, as in life, you decide your destiny. Half our pairs would never leave."
"They're institutionalized," said Vain. "You've broken them."
"Those 'institutionalized' people are what I came to talk to you about. Behind that door, I have amassed the concentrated might of the Hotel. About one hundred pairs of power users are waiting on the other side, ready to obliterate you if you step through. Even Arthur himself would kneel before that. I don't care how powerful you believe yourself to be Emma, they will end you. This crusade of yours stops now. You cannot be allowed to murder Arthur."
Emma laughed. It was a horrible sound, a mechanical clacking that had no mirth or joy or laughter in it. Even Trick seemed taken aback by the sound.
"Emma, please stop." Vain reached out towards Emma.
"Silly little joke," Emma's laughter trailed off. "You think our plan was to cut the head off the snake? Who cares if the snake exists if he has no home?"
Emma giggled and waved her hand. Tiny detonations pinged off the walls, sending pebbles and bits of rubble to the ground. She snapped, and a chunk of rock fell from the ceiling, narrowly missing Trick.
"What are you doing?" he said.
"Twinkle twinkle, little Trick," Emma sang. "You're stuck here with us now."
The door behind them, the one leading back to their world, slammed shut. Dozens of mini explosions caused debris to fly around the room. Vain yelped as a jagged piece of rock hit her in the head. Hot moisture ran down her face and when she wiped, her hand came away red.
"Boom, boom, boom. We're all trapped in this room."
Emma spun in a circle and the detonations intensified. She was laughing. Vain wasn't sure if any part of Emma remained. Whatever that person was, she was a stranger. Roman reached out a hand to touch her, but she spun away. The air was filled with falling rock.
"Stop it," Trick said. "You're going to destroy the Portal."
"Correct," Emma giggled. She made a throwing motion and an enormous chunk of rock blew off the wall, shaking the floor and causing Vain to lose her balance.
"You're going to destroy the Portal," Trick breathed, realization dawning on his face. "Jesus Christ. No." All traces of smug condescension vanished from his face and he held up his hands in a gesture of pleading. "Vain, Roman. You will destroy the world. You can't let her do this. I can give you what you want if you stop this."
"You don't have anything we want," said Roman.
"You had a life before this. I can give it back to you. It's not too late. I can return your memories, I can put you back in the world."
"Bullshit," said Vain.
"It's not. I can fix all of this for you, make it like nothing ever happened. Vanity. I can give you your name. I can tell you who you are."
Vain licked her lips, wanting him to stop, wanting it to be over. "I know who I am, you piece of shit. My name is Vain. And I'm the last person you'll think about every night from now until the end of your life because I fucking beat you."
"Get out of here, Trick." Roman pointed the gun at him.
Trick held up his hands. "You'll destroy everything. Emma, if you do this, if you go through with this plan, Arthur will never stop. He will be singular in his purpose and his purpose will be to end you."
Emma laughed. "He can't touch me."
"Yes, he can. Vain's plans never work, not the way she intends. And trust me when I say he can do much worse things than coming after you. He can go after your family."
Beside her, Vain heard a crack. Emma had clenched her hands so tightly her knuckles popped. Her lips peeled back to reveal her teeth. The explosions stopped, and she turned her entire focus towards Trick.
"Killing is the least of it," Trick continued. He'd regained some of his composure and was getting the words out in a breathless rush. "He'll reserve killing for your distant acquaintances. For the people you love, it will be much worse. Your friends, your family. He has access to worlds where time doesn't move. Infinite time to take everyone you love and ruin them."
"Stop," Emma said.
"He will turn everyone against you, constantly reminding them you are the reason this is happening. Every single waking moment of their lives, consumed by agony, knowing that you are the cause."
"Stop," Emma said louder, and her fists raised to her sides.
Too late, Vain realized what Trick was doing. He was goading her.
"This time we'll find your mother for real and trap her in endless pain. I'll let the Wyatts have her; there are infinite Wyatts and infinite time to use her, over and over and over."
"Stop!" This time Emma yelled and threw her hands in front of her.
The power erupted from her body, aimed squarely at Trick. There was no elegance to it, only raw energy exploding in a torrent. Vain and Roman were both thrown backward and scrambled over each other, each trying to put themselves in the way of danger to protect the other.
Trick ducked behind the giant umbrella, and the power crashed off it with a thunderous clap. The umbrella rocked and smoked, the edges blackening against the release of Emma's strength.
Emma screamed and her body shook with the strain. Vain couldn't see a way to stop it. She was going to burn herself out. Trick's final gambit was so simple, and she had walked right into the trap.
Vain tried to yell over the din, but the outpouring of power consumed her words. The umbrella continued to char and wilt. The sheer magnitude of strength at Emma's command made Vain shaky with fear.
As suddenly as it started, it was over. Emma dropped to the ground, spent. Vain's ears rang in the immediate silence and for moments, no one moved or spoke. She untangled herself from Roman and they both climbed to their feet. Trick's head popped out from behind the umbrella, which was now a charred mass of smoking material and metal on the ground in front of him.
"Christ," he whispered. "What are you? You're more powerful than Arthur. Not even he could do that."
Roman lunged forward and punched him in the face. It was a clean shot, and it took Trick by surprise. He fell to the ground with a thump.
"Enough," said Roman, and threw open the door to the Hotel.
The garden was as she remembered; a lush oasis in the center of a dead rock, lit by jagged lighting from a faded-red sky. In the distance, the Hotel loomed over everything, casting its poisonous glare out over the landscape. It was a cramped, ugly protrusion that jutted from the ground at an improper angle. The colors on the outside had faded to a sickly white and rust-brown eaves lined the building. The number of windows and stories changed every time she blinked. At the top, someone stood on a balcony surrounded by iron fencing.
Arthur.
Could he see her, even from that distance? She fought the instinctual urge to hide, to escape. Like the mouse who sees the hawk in the sky, she saw her own death when she looked at him. The courtyard in front of the Hotel was empty save a smattering of Wyatts who squinted into the void. Trick, as was often the case, had been lying. No one had gathered to stop them.
Roman picked Trick up and heaved him through the opening. He bounced off the harsh rust-colored rock of the courtyard and Roman scrambled to close the door. He shut it with a ponderous slam and sunk down, burying his head in his hands.
Vain rushed over to Emma and rolled her on to her back. She gasped in horror.
Emma was in ruins.
Her eyes leaked blood. Across her skin, her veins had ruptured, leaving terrible, dark purple spider webs across her body. Her fingers were frozen in a rictus of agony, bent at unnatural angles. The noise coming from her lips was grotesque, a kind of gasping-hiccup. When she coughed, bright red blood splashed out on to her shirt.
"We're finished," Vain said. She started to weep. It was over. Her shoulder was in agony and she was out of time. Emma couldn't continue, she was barely conscious, and probably dying. Roman crawled over to them and gasped.
"Oh, Emma." He took her from Vain and cradled her head in his lap.
It broke Vain's heart. "Let's get out of here. We can try something else later. We need to get her to a safe place. A hospital."
"No." Emma's eyes opened, red and hollow, bloody tears streaming down her cheeks. Her voice was hardly more than a croak. "I am stopping this now. Today."
"You can't," said Roman. He stroked her hair.
Vain swallowed through the lump in her throat.
"I can't let this go on." Emma pushed herself away and sat up. Vain didn't know where her strength came from. The whole plan seemed so foolish now.
"Are we..." Roman licked his lips. "Are we going to die?"
"Probably," said Emma. "The power... the power here is too complete. Too total. Too wild." She coughed and spat blood onto the dirt floor. "There won't be anything for the Padlock to revive."
They would die. Vain never considered it, but once Emma said it out loud, the full weight crushed her. She put her head in her hands. Roman arranged himself cross-legged on the cold brick floor, facing her. The three of them, weary and battered, sat in a circle.
Vain was ready. Her life hadn't worked out the way she expected, and she realized, to her surprise, that knowing she would die gave her relief. No more running. She could do it.
Her heart ached for Roman, not for herself. She had sworn to protect him and, instead, she brought him there. There was no other way, though. He smiled at her with real warmth and her heart broke. He didn't blame her for killing him.
"I know you don't like touching, Vain," he said. "But if this is our last moment on earth I wanted to—"
She was crying, the first sob erupting from her like a cork out of a champagne bottle, letting free all the emotions she kept cradled so close to her. She threw herself at him and hugged him with one arm, soaking her wet tears into his neck.
After a startled pause, he hugged her back, his arms circling her tiny frame. It was wonderful. It was safe, and it was warm, and it was wonderful. Why hadn't she ever done that before? She cried into his neck and hugged him as hard as she could.
"I love you, Vain," he said, squeezing her.
"I love you too, Roman. Thank you for being my friend." She wanted to hug him forever, but they needed to move. She drew back and wiped her face. He was crying, too. Beside them, Emma's face was a blank, dull slate.
"I'm starting." Without waiting for an answer, Emma started.
The weight of it smothered her. Emma shivered, a horrible tremor as her body failed, unable to keep up with the strain of pulling that much energy.
"Please," Emma said, with no inflection. "Now. I can't keep this. I have so much energy in me, it needs to go."
"Lie down, Emma," Vain said. There was no way for Emma to grab the Padlock, not with her hands as broken as they were. She lifted Emma's shirt and placed it against her stomach. Roman placed a single finger on the base and Vain touched the lock. They were ready.
Emma closed her eyes, and the air became oppressive and heavy. It took on physical weight, and it came crashing down. Emma was packing the room with energy.
"God." Roman's eyes were wide. "Even I can feel that. How much are you taking?"
"All of it." Tears streamed down Emma's cheeks. "It has to be now."
"I thought of a good closing line," said Vain. "It's the end of the world as we know it. And I feel-"
The world exploded.