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Time Trials
Round 5
Part 1
Time You Can Never Get Back

I release my hold on him. I don't feel so empty anymore. I don't feel the loneliness crushing me from the inside anymore. I feel so warm for the first time, so happy.

The feeling of joy wells up in me. I can't help but fly about the man who brought warmth to this cold and dreary place. It feels so good, I never want it to leave.

I come back down to meet my savior's eyes. Eyes brown like the wood on the oak in the graveyard, so tired and dull, they look like they belong here. I can see a small light struggling to peak through like a flame in the dark. I want to help that light shine through.

I ask why he is here.

He says that he was out on a walk.

I see his eyes dim. I ask why he does not tell the truth.

He looked at me with surprise, but quickly turns away.

I float over to meet his eyes.

He turns again to avoid meeting my eyes.

I go to meet his eyes once more.

He does not bother to turn this time. Looking through me with an extinguished flame in his eyes.

I ask him once more with concern. It hurt to see that dead look in the eyes of my savior.

He closes his eyes and takes a breath. He opens them, but they do not meet mine. I look to see what his eyes are set on behind me. But, the only thing there is the oak and...

“Because I am not truly alive,” he says...

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

I woke with a cold sweat as my heart raced at the memory. It- it was a memory of the best and worst day of my life. It was the best because it was the day Ricky found me and ended the loneliness that consumed me. That- that was the day Ricky broke, given up.

This all happened just a few days after Ricky's foster mother, Fiona, died. Her death left their family utterly devastated. Drem lost both her ability to fly and her mother. Ricky's foster father, Krah, better known as Captain Dervish, ignored what remained of his family and drank away his woes. As for Ricky himself, he blamed Krah and himself for the death of his mother and what happened to Drem, going so far as to change his name.

On that day, R-Ricky was going to kill himself. Ricky- Ricky was going to hang himself. H-he couldn't take the guilt or the visions anymore. Just- he finally gave up. His eyes were so lifeless. I- I don't wanna think of what would have happened if I hadn't been singing that evening.

The smell of salt permeates the air of the room as cold tears run down my face. It felt as if a jackhammer pounded in my chest, as my heart threatened to burst from my chest. A feeling of horror surges through me as I try to stop my body from shivering. I hate this feeling. I really do.

This memory, one that leaves me with conflicting emotions; happiness and sorrow, joy and despair. It feels like it's tearing me apart. I want Ricky, he always knows what to say to make this feeling go away.

I brought my legs to my chest and wrapped my arms around them as tightly as I could. The feelings that coursed through me were overwhelming. Only the feeling of hugging myself as tightly as I could. My efforts provided only a feeble veil of comfort, doing little to stop the droplets of salty water that continued to pour like rainclouds down my face and onto my arms. Make this feeling go away, Ricky. Please.

For what felt like an eternity, I sat there, sobbing, before a warm pair of arms wrapped themselves around me. A motherly, loving voice became my solace as I quickly clung to my savior. Words of kindness and comfort were spoken into my ears as I poured out every emotion that burdened me.

“It's okay Dear, you're safe now,” the motherly voice of Mrs. Christi was spoken gently into my ears. “Let it all out, Fiona. Just let it all out.”

I don't know how long I cried, but felt like hours before I finally managed to calm down enough to ask the one question on my mind. “Wh-where i-is Ri-Ricky?”

Was that my voice? It sounded so hoarse and strained. And why does it hurt to speak? Why does my throat feel so scratchy? How strange.

“Focus on yourself right now, Dear,” she said as she brought a cup of water to my lips. “Drink up now. You'll feel better with some fluids back in your body after crying so much.”

The moment the cool feeling of water touched my lips, my body suddenly acted on its own as it forced me to greedily drink from the cup. I shivered as the refreshing feeling of the water slid down my throat and relieved me of the soreness I was feeling in it. What a delightful feeling it was.

Wait, I can't drink. And why could I smell salt and feel my heart? I'm not alive. What's going on?

“M-Mrs. Chr-Christi,” I struggled to say as we both released our respective holds on each other. Why is it still so difficult to talk?

“Easy now, Dear. You haven't used a set of vocal cords in years from what the Oracle tells me. Your body is still suffering from atrophy after being dead for so long. Don't worry, you'll be out and about after some physical therapy and good nutrition.”

What did she mean by, 'Dead for so long'? I'm not dead?

I could only stare in wonder as I finally noticed the stark difference between what my hands once were. It was then that I noticed their usual transparent blue was now replaced with pale, white skin. It felt so smooth and soft, almost like silk. How do I know what silk feels like? Oh who cares, I'm alive! I can't wait to show Ricky!

I can finally hug him without having to worrying about becoming intangible and passing through him! We can finally try those tasty looking treats from that bakery we always pass by! Oh! I wonder what it's like to taste! I can run! I can hop! I can skip and jump! And! And! Why does my body suddenly feel so hot when I think of Ricky? Weird.

“Easy now, Dear,” Mrs. Christi gently placed her hand on my shoulder as she tried to temper my burst of excitement. “You just recently got your body back. You shouldn't exert yourself before you've recovered, Fiona.”

“B-but,” I managed to stutter before wilting from the stern look Mrs. Christi was giving me. “Can- can you please ge- get Ricky? I- I want to see him.”

“I'm- I'm afraid you can't, Dear.”

What? Why can't she-?

“Miss- Mrs. Christi? Why- why can't you answer?” My throat tightened with each word, making it even more difficult to speak. “Whe- where's Ri- Ricky, Mrs. Christi? Is he- Is he alright?”

I was met with silence as I barely caught her somber expression as she hid her face behind her bangs. What-? No. Please, no!

“Di- Did something happen to Ricky? Where- is he?! Please- please tell- tell me Dedrick is alright! Please-!” I began to violently cough as my throat finally gave from the strain I was putting on it. My hysteria wasn't helping it either.

“Please, take it easy, Dear. You still haven't recovered yet,” Putting a cup to my lips once again to let the cool liquid ease my throat.

I relented to my caretaker's orders with a heavy sigh. With the stress I had put on my vocal chords, I wasn't going to be able to talk any time soon. So with my limited options, I gave a pleading look of desperation, hoping she would provide an answer.

A hesitant expression of uncertainty and sorrow adorned her face as she seemed to contemplate something. After several painful moments of silence, Mrs. Christi finally spoke up. The feeling of fear clenched in my chest as I watched her lips part to convey her message.

“I'm afraid-” Taking a deep breath to try and collect herself to tell me what she had difficultly saying. “Your friend is no longer with us, Fiona.”

What- What does she mean? Please tell me she doesn't mean Ricky is dead!

“He surrendered himself in order to save you, Dear.”

Ricky sacrificed himself for me. It's my fault. It's all my fault. My fault that I was so stupid to get captured. My fault that he had to give himself up to save me. My fault that he's always had to deal with me. My fault for being such a useless burden to him. It's my fault. It always is.

A pair of motherly arms wrap themselves around me as the smell of salt reached my nose once again. I couldn't help but reciprocate the action as tears fell began to fall again.

Why am I so weak? So worthless? All I do is cause problems for everyone around me. Maybe- maybe it'd be best if I had never-

“Don't you dare finish that thought, Fiona!” Came the desperate, motherly voice of Mrs. Christi as she lift my chin to force me to look directly into her eyes. “Don't you dare blame yourself for what happened to your friend. He made that decision because of how deeply he cared for you, so don't let his sacrifice be in vain, Fiona. Don't give up, Dear, please.”

Numb would be the easiest way to describe how I feel. I didn't feel despair, nor inspiration as Mrs. Christi's words passed through my head. I should be feeling something from her speech. Angry, sad, happy, something. Anything! But I feel nothing. Empty. Apathetic. Numb.

Is this what Ricky feels like; the feeling of being dead to the world? As if something were gnawing away at your very being. Huh, what a strange feeling, but it feels so familiar. Almost as if I've known it all my life.

“Mrs. Christi, you have not mentioned Dedrick's name once since we began speaking. What happened to him?” I have no idea why those words came out of my mouth; they felt so cold and distant. It felt as if somebody had possessed my body.

What's going on? Why can't I control myself?

The sudden change in attitude caught Mrs. Christi off-guard for a moment, but she quickly recovered, as if expecting this would happen. “I didn't think the Oracle was telling the truth when she said there would be two personalities sharing your body when you woke up.” She gave a sigh before continuing, “That's because- because I nobody can actually say his name anymore, let alone, remember him. It's as if he suddenly never existed. It's as if he were cut out of a picture; you know someone was there, but you're not sure who. However, you seem to be the only who does.”

Ricky was Erased. Gone for good. But, why do I still remember him? That shouldn't be possible.

“I may be able to provide answers to your questions, Ms. Spectre,” came a familiar, yet different voice. “Though, something like this has never happened before.”

“In other words, this is all pure speculation,” the cold and calculating voice continued to escape my lips. “And just who are you? You are not the Oracle.”

“That is true, but I will need you to wake up before I answer anymore questions,” it stated before flashing a card from one of its hand and giving a sharp flick to my forehead with the other.

I couldn't help but give out a yelp of surprise at the sudden jolt of pain. That really hurt! Wait, I'm back in control! But, how?

“I believe I shall start by properly introducing myself before I begin. I am the Oracle's current host, as you may have noticed from the change of voice or the lack of the third eye upon my forehead. You may refer to me as, Valentine, for the time being, ” she politely stated, though her voice was still rather monotone. “Now, both of you are curious as to how Ms. Spectre has a secondary personality, am I correct.”

Both Mrs. Christi and I nodded a tad too enthusiastically for the answer.

“Being the unusual case that you are, Ms. Spectre, the other personality is a result of both the suppressed memories of your former self and reconstruction of your body by the Null. I have taken care of the issue of your other self taking control of your body, but you may allow her to take the reins should you will it.”

“Thank you, but what do the Null have anything to do with it?”

It feels nice being able to speak how I want again. Hey, the weird, numb feeling is gone! Cool!

“Quite frankly, the fact they 'made' something is the issue for the matter. After all, you cannot make something from nothing. Which asks the question of where your body came from, Ms. Spectre, with there being only one logical conclusion; the Bel have been in possession of your body since your 'death' and have likely plotted this since the beginning.”

“To make matters worse, the Oracle and the judges are unable to link a connection from the Realm of Time to Junction. Thus, effectively preventing us from reaching their current location, being the Door. We have played right into their hands.”

“You mean they used me to get to Ricky,” I could feel my heart breaking as I spoke.

“I'm afraid you are correct,” retaining the lack of emotion in her voice, though her body language told another story. “We have all been played for fools, even the Oracle, but a sliver of hope still remains. For you see, Mr. Spectre seems to have made a makeshift contingency plan that we believe will allow us to circumvent this issue.”

I couldn't help but visibly perk up at hearing this bit of news. Any chance of saving, no matter how small, is worth pursuing.

“While we cannot reach the Door directly from here, we can reach it by going through the dimension that is being used for the time trials by forcing open rifts in the space-time continuum. Doing so will required the destabilization of the time stream, as you may have noticed our current surroundings, but it price Father Time was willing to pay for doing things outside of relating to time. And thanks to Mr. Spectre's fast thinking, he left us a way to temporarily track him through the portals that will be created throughout time in order to reach our destination,” pulling out what appeared to be a stopwatch as she finished explaining.

Wait, is that-!

“Ricky's translator!” I couldn't help but exclaim as the gears turned in my head as to how it would help. It was not a moment later before a light bulb suddenly flashed in my head, though the nagging feeling I was missing something bothered me greatly. “He still has the earpiece to translator on, doesn't he? Ricky left this half of the translator behind so we could find him!”

“Along with his lantern.” Valentine lazily pointed to a table on the other side of the room. On it was Ricky's weird lantern and a set of clothes, which if I had to guess, were mine. They looked like form-fitting, like the spy clothes from the movies.

And just like that, it occurred to me something was wrong with what she just said. “Excuse me, Ms. Valentine? What exactly do you mean, 'a price Father Time was willing to pay'?”

She silently bowed her head for a moment before talking in her usual monotone voice, “Father Time willingly put himself in grave danger in order to give you, the Spies, and the demons an opportunity to get to the Door and end this madness. It is taking the rest of us all of our efforts to keep Father Time from falling apart. I am afraid I cannot say more on the matter, other than that neither of you must tell the others going with you the sacrifice the Fool is taking to enable you to end this.”

I closed my eyes to process everything I've been told since I awoke. Suddenly having a body, Ricky captured by things hellbent on erasing everything, the very real possibility of the end of existence. Somehow, it all feels natural, like I've done this kind of thing all of my life. Maybe I have, but there isn't any time to think about that kind of stuff right now.

“Tell me what I need to do then,” I spoke with steely determination. “I'm going to need to get better as fast as possible if I'm gonna help. Is there any way of doing that?”

“You will need to build up muscle in your body once again, and the only way to do that is physical therapy and training. That is something that will require much time and effort.”

Then- then I'm useless. There isn't enough time or a way for me to get better in-

“That, however, will not be an issue as time is subject while we remain in the Realm of Time. What may seem like months to one person could be merely seconds to another here. Ms. Christi and I shall ensure a quick recovery and training in the skills you will need.”

Or maybe not.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Fortuna it feels like it's been years since I've seen everyone. It have actually been that long for all I know. Though I'm pretty sure to everyone else it'll be like they only saw me yesterday. Why am I even talking about time relation in a place that's subjective to it? Since when do I ever think like this? Must be my other self's personality seeping into mine.

“Fiona, is that you?” I heard a young man call out my name.

Low and behold, I was now face to face with the Bushy Tail Spies. To say they looked shocked was an understatement. Well, I guess seeing someone come back from the dead would do that to you. I guess the white hair and the fact I'm carrying Ricky's lantern was what tipped them off.

“The one and only!”

Maybe I said that a tad too cheerfully.

“But- but how!? That's not possible!” Mr. Occhio exclaimed in confusion.

“So is being a living form of ectoplasm capable of speech, intangibility, and higher level cognitive thinking. It shouldn't be, but I'm right here!” Silence and disbelief quickly followed my roundabout of an explanation.

Um, I think I might have broken them. Then again, I never did speak nor think this way before. I think me and my other self are slowly becoming one again. Feels weird and I'm not entirely sure this is true, but the thought is surprisingly liberating. Kinda like putting the final pieces of a jigsaw puzzle together or fixing a broken mirror; it's not perfect, but still whole, complete.

“Are you guys alright? Hello~? Anybody home?” I waved my hand in front of Ms. Caddie's face in an attempt to wake her from her stupor. It seemed to work as she swatted my hand away a moment later and regained her composure.

“Our apologies, Fiona, you simply caught us all off guard with your return to the mortal plain,” not so gently elbowing her companions to bring them back to reality. “It is not every day that something such as this occurs, especially when said person comes back with a much larger vocabulary than before.”

“Yeah, most people say something like when they saw me as a ghost, especially superstitious off-worlders. It's always funny when they try to throw water at me and say some weird stuff when they see me.” Giggling at some memories that came to mind.

“I have a feeling you don't have much respect for religious people,” she stated with a hint of sarcasm.

“What's a religion?” Tilting my head in confusion.

“Yep, that's Fiona alright,” Mr. Banito chuckled as he shook his head. “Clueless as ever!”

“Seriously, what's a religion?”

The spies just laughed as the tension that seemed to have built up had suddenly disappeared. Well, better a laugh at my expense than tension of hostility and shock. They probably thought I was impostor or something of the like. Wait, how did I know know that? I guess I'm gonna have to chalk it up to my other self there.

“I almost didn't recognize you, Fiona,” Mr. Ricky said with amazement. “Especially with your new look. Kinda cute I gotta admit.”

“Yeah, you look like you're ready to go to war,” Mr. Badito added. “Armed to the teeth.”

I couldn't help but blush at their comments for some reason. I've never had anybody say anything like that before. To be fair, I always wore a gray dress before. Though, I really wish Ricky were here now and say stuff like that. Where did that come from?

Oh, I never did say what I looked like, did I? Silly me! May as well start from the top.

I've cut my hair since my recovery; it's in a ponytail now and comes down to my shoulders. As for what I'm wearing, it would be a lot of stuff. Mrs. Christi and Valentine made me wear a black bodysuit and something called a 'kevlar vest' over the red jacket they gave me. Beyond that, they gave me a set of black pants full of pockets with a matching set of boots. They also made take a bunch of weapons like knives and pistols. I wonder why I'm so casual about this?

“It truly is remarkable seeing you alive and well, Ms. Fiona. Perhaps you could inform us as to how you were resurrected?” Mr. Occhio inquired as I could see the gears turn in his head.

“Well, that would require me to have been dead in the first place.” I may have been a bit too casual when I said that, because all of the spies gave me a strange stare after that. It's making me kind of uncomfortable.

“Um, I can explain?”

“Explanations will have to be for another time, Ms. Spectre,” interrupted an emotionless voice.

“Oracle? You sound... different,” Occhio spoke what was on the minds of the other spies as we all turned to face her.

“Indeed. I am the Oracle's current host. You may call me Valentine for the time being, but we have little time for anymore pleasantries.” The enigma that stood in front of us pulled a card from her hat and placed it on the ground in front of us along with the translator that she held in her other hand. “Through the destabilization of the space-time continuum, as you may have noticed around you, rifts in it called, 'portals' have randomly appeared throughout the time-stream, each leading to a different time period. You will need to traverse through these scattered portals to find the one leading to what is known as 'the Door'. You will know you are there when you see it.”

“Normally such a task would consume too much time and energy, but thanks to the efforts of Mr. ------- before he was erased, we were able to use the signal from the two halves of his translation device to determine the quickest path to the Door. I shall provide directions via telepathy remotely from here.”

“You will likely encounter many obstacles, including the Null and one known as 'Drake Binks'. Dispatching of both are considered secondary target, with your primary objectives reaching the Door and stopping the Bel. They must be stopped, no matter the cost. All of existence is depending on all of you.”

Fear and apprehension enveloped everyone in the area like a thick fog. It was so thick it could practically be cut with a knife.

“Jeez, you sure know how to lay it thick, don'cha ya', Oracle,” came the devil-may-care words of Ms. Lina as both she and Ms. Apaco finally arrived.

“Your speech was a piece of crap, Triclops!” Ms. Apaco spoke in her normal irate tone. “If you want 'em to crumble under the pressure, you're succeeding.”

“As entertaining as it would be to have a verbal spar pertaining to your lack of observational skills and send you into a tantrum when you are losing said conversation, we have more pressing matters at hand.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Giving a huff and seemingly brushing off the jab. “So are we gonna save the multiverse or what?”

“Very well. I wish you all luck and may Fortuna smile upon you all.”

Valentine slammed her hand on the card and stopwatch before we were all enveloped by a flash of light.

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Time Trials
Round 5
Part 1
Time You Can Never Get Back

I release my hold on him. I don't feel so empty anymore. I don't feel the loneliness crushing me from the inside anymore. I feel so warm for the first time, so happy.

The feeling of joy wells up in me. I can't help but fly about the man who brought warmth to this cold and dreary place. It feels so good, I never want it to leave.

I come back down to meet my savior's eyes. Eyes brown like the wood on the oak in the graveyard, so tired and dull, they look like they belong here. I can see a small light struggling to peak through like a flame in the dark. I want to help that light shine through.

I ask why he is here.

He says that he was out on a walk.

I see his eyes dim. I ask why he does not tell the truth.

He looked at me with surprise, but quickly turns away.

I float over to meet his eyes.

He turns again to avoid meeting my eyes.

I go to meet his eyes once more.

He does not bother to turn this time. Looking through me with an extinguished flame in his eyes.

I ask him once more with concern. It hurt to see that dead look in the eyes of my savior.

He closes his eyes and takes a breath. He opens them, but they do not meet mine. I look to see what his eyes are set on behind me. But, the only thing there is the oak and...

“Because I am not truly alive,” he says...

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

I woke with a cold sweat as my heart raced at the memory. It- it was a memory of the best and worst day of my life. It was the best because it was the day Ricky found me and ended the loneliness that consumed me. That- that was the day Ricky broke, given up.

This all happened just a few days after Ricky's foster mother, Fiona, died. Her death left their family utterly devastated. Drem lost both her ability to fly and her mother. Ricky's foster father, Krah, better known as Captain Dervish, ignored what remained of his family and drank away his woes. As for Ricky himself, he blamed Krah and himself for the death of his mother and what happened to Drem, going so far as to change his name.

On that day, R-Ricky was going to kill himself. Ricky- Ricky was going to hang himself. H-he couldn't take the guilt or the visions anymore. Just- he finally gave up. His eyes were so lifeless. I- I don't wanna think of what would have happened if I hadn't been singing that evening.

The smell of salt permeates the air of the room as cold tears run down my face. It felt as if a jackhammer pounded in my chest, as my heart threatened to burst from my chest. A feeling of horror surges through me as I try to stop my body from shivering. I hate this feeling. I really do.

This memory, one that leaves me with conflicting emotions; happiness and sorrow, joy and despair. It feels like it's tearing me apart. I want Ricky, he always knows what to say to make this feeling go away.

I brought my legs to my chest and wrapped my arms around them as tightly as I could. The feelings that coursed through me were overwhelming. Only the feeling of hugging myself as tightly as I could. My efforts provided only a feeble veil of comfort, doing little to stop the droplets of salty water that continued to pour like rainclouds down my face and onto my arms. Make this feeling go away, Ricky. Please.

For what felt like an eternity, I sat there, sobbing, before a warm pair of arms wrapped themselves around me. A motherly, loving voice became my solace as I quickly clung to my savior. Words of kindness and comfort were spoken into my ears as I poured out every emotion that burdened me.

“It's okay Dear, you're safe now,” the motherly voice of Mrs. Christi was spoken gently into my ears. “Let it all out, Fiona. Just let it all out.”

I don't know how long I cried, but felt like hours before I finally managed to calm down enough to ask the one question on my mind. “Wh-where i-is Ri-Ricky?”

Was that my voice? It sounded so hoarse and strained. And why does it hurt to speak? Why does my throat feel so scratchy? How strange.

“Focus on yourself right now, Dear,” she said as she brought a cup of water to my lips. “Drink up now. You'll feel better with some fluids back in your body after crying so much.”

The moment the cool feeling of water touched my lips, my body suddenly acted on its own as it forced me to greedily drink from the cup. I shivered as the refreshing feeling of the water slid down my throat and relieved me of the soreness I was feeling in it. What a delightful feeling it was.

Wait, I can't drink. And why could I smell salt and feel my heart? I'm not alive. What's going on?

“M-Mrs. Chr-Christi,” I struggled to say as we both released our respective holds on each other. Why is it still so difficult to talk?

“Easy now, Dear. You haven't used a set of vocal cords in years from what the Oracle tells me. Your body is still suffering from atrophy after being dead for so long. Don't worry, you'll be out and about after some physical therapy and good nutrition.”

What did she mean by, 'Dead for so long'? I'm not dead?

I could only stare in wonder as I finally noticed the stark difference between what my hands once were. It was then that I noticed their usual transparent blue was now replaced with pale, white skin. It felt so smooth and soft, almost like silk. How do I know what silk feels like? Oh who cares, I'm alive! I can't wait to show Ricky!

I can finally hug him without having to worrying about becoming intangible and passing through him! We can finally try those tasty looking treats from that bakery we always pass by! Oh! I wonder what it's like to taste! I can run! I can hop! I can skip and jump! And! And! Why does my body suddenly feel so hot when I think of Ricky? Weird.

“Easy now, Dear,” Mrs. Christi gently placed her hand on my shoulder as she tried to temper my burst of excitement. “You just recently got your body back. You shouldn't exert yourself before you've recovered, Fiona.”

“B-but,” I managed to stutter before wilting from the stern look Mrs. Christi was giving me. “Can- can you please ge- get Ricky? I- I want to see him.”

“I'm- I'm afraid you can't, Dear.”

What? Why can't she-?

“Miss- Mrs. Christi? Why- why can't you answer?” My throat tightened with each word, making it even more difficult to speak. “Whe- where's Ri- Ricky, Mrs. Christi? Is he- Is he alright?”

I was met with silence as I barely caught her somber expression as she hid her face behind her bangs. What-? No. Please, no!

“Di- Did something happen to Ricky? Where- is he?! Please- please tell- tell me Dedrick is alright! Please-!” I began to violently cough as my throat finally gave from the strain I was putting on it. My hysteria wasn't helping it either.

“Please, take it easy, Dear. You still haven't recovered yet,” Putting a cup to my lips once again to let the cool liquid ease my throat.

I relented to my caretaker's orders with a heavy sigh. With the stress I had put on my vocal chords, I wasn't going to be able to talk any time soon. So with my limited options, I gave a pleading look of desperation, hoping she would provide an answer.

A hesitant expression of uncertainty and sorrow adorned her face as she seemed to contemplate something. After several painful moments of silence, Mrs. Christi finally spoke up. The feeling of fear clenched in my chest as I watched her lips part to convey her message.

“I'm afraid-” Taking a deep breath to try and collect herself to tell me what she had difficultly saying. “Your friend is no longer with us, Fiona.”

What- What does she mean? Please tell me she doesn't mean Ricky is dead!

“He surrendered himself in order to save you, Dear.”

Ricky sacrificed himself for me. It's my fault. It's all my fault. My fault that I was so stupid to get captured. My fault that he had to give himself up to save me. My fault that he's always had to deal with me. My fault for being such a useless burden to him. It's my fault. It always is.

A pair of motherly arms wrap themselves around me as the smell of salt reached my nose once again. I couldn't help but reciprocate the action as tears fell began to fall again.

Why am I so weak? So worthless? All I do is cause problems for everyone around me. Maybe- maybe it'd be best if I had never-

“Don't you dare finish that thought, Fiona!” Came the desperate, motherly voice of Mrs. Christi as she lift my chin to force me to look directly into her eyes. “Don't you dare blame yourself for what happened to your friend. He made that decision because of how deeply he cared for you, so don't let his sacrifice be in vain, Fiona. Don't give up, Dear, please.”

Numb would be the easiest way to describe how I feel. I didn't feel despair, nor inspiration as Mrs. Christi's words passed through my head. I should be feeling something from her speech. Angry, sad, happy, something. Anything! But I feel nothing. Empty. Apathetic. Numb.

Is this what Ricky feels like; the feeling of being dead to the world? As if something were gnawing away at your very being. Huh, what a strange feeling, but it feels so familiar. Almost as if I've known it all my life.

“Mrs. Christi, you have not mentioned Dedrick's name once since we began speaking. What happened to him?” I have no idea why those words came out of my mouth; they felt so cold and distant. It felt as if somebody had possessed my body.

What's going on? Why can't I control myself?

The sudden change in attitude caught Mrs. Christi off-guard for a moment, but she quickly recovered, as if expecting this would happen. “I didn't think the Oracle was telling the truth when she said there would be two personalities sharing your body when you woke up.” She gave a sigh before continuing, “That's because- because I nobody can actually say his name anymore, let alone, remember him. It's as if he suddenly never existed. It's as if he were cut out of a picture; you know someone was there, but you're not sure who. However, you seem to be the only who does.”

Ricky was Erased. Gone for good. But, why do I still remember him? That shouldn't be possible.

“I may be able to provide answers to your questions, Ms. Spectre,” came a familiar, yet different voice. “Though, something like this has never happened before.”

“In other words, this is all pure speculation,” the cold and calculating voice continued to escape my lips. “And just who are you? You are not the Oracle.”

“That is true, but I will need you to wake up before I answer anymore questions,” it stated before flashing a card from one of its hand and giving a sharp flick to my forehead with the other.

I couldn't help but give out a yelp of surprise at the sudden jolt of pain. That really hurt! Wait, I'm back in control! But, how?

“I believe I shall start by properly introducing myself before I begin. I am the Oracle's current host, as you may have noticed from the change of voice or the lack of the third eye upon my forehead. You may refer to me as, Valentine, for the time being, ” she politely stated, though her voice was still rather monotone. “Now, both of you are curious as to how Ms. Spectre has a secondary personality, am I correct.”

Both Mrs. Christi and I nodded a tad too enthusiastically for the answer.

“Being the unusual case that you are, Ms. Spectre, the other personality is a result of both the suppressed memories of your former self and reconstruction of your body by the Null. I have taken care of the issue of your other self taking control of your body, but you may allow her to take the reins should you will it.”

“Thank you, but what do the Null have anything to do with it?”

It feels nice being able to speak how I want again. Hey, the weird, numb feeling is gone! Cool!

“Quite frankly, the fact they 'made' something is the issue for the matter. After all, you cannot make something from nothing. Which asks the question of where your body came from, Ms. Spectre, with there being only one logical conclusion; the Bel have been in possession of your body since your 'death' and have likely plotted this since the beginning.”

“To make matters worse, the Oracle and the judges are unable to link a connection from the Realm of Time to Junction. Thus, effectively preventing us from reaching their current location, being the Door. We have played right into their hands.”

“You mean they used me to get to Ricky,” I could feel my heart breaking as I spoke.

“I'm afraid you are correct,” retaining the lack of emotion in her voice, though her body language told another story. “We have all been played for fools, even the Oracle, but a sliver of hope still remains. For you see, Mr. Spectre seems to have made a makeshift contingency plan that we believe will allow us to circumvent this issue.”

I couldn't help but visibly perk up at hearing this bit of news. Any chance of saving, no matter how small, is worth pursuing.

“While we cannot reach the Door directly from here, we can reach it by going through the dimension that is being used for the time trials by forcing open rifts in the space-time continuum. Doing so will required the destabilization of the time stream, as you may have noticed our current surroundings, but it price Father Time was willing to pay for doing things outside of relating to time. And thanks to Mr. Spectre's fast thinking, he left us a way to temporarily track him through the portals that will be created throughout time in order to reach our destination,” pulling out what appeared to be a stopwatch as she finished explaining.

Wait, is that-!

“Ricky's translator!” I couldn't help but exclaim as the gears turned in my head as to how it would help. It was not a moment later before a light bulb suddenly flashed in my head, though the nagging feeling I was missing something bothered me greatly. “He still has the earpiece to translator on, doesn't he? Ricky left this half of the translator behind so we could find him!”

“Along with his lantern.” Valentine lazily pointed to a table on the other side of the room. On it was Ricky's weird lantern and a set of clothes, which if I had to guess, were mine. They looked like form-fitting, like the spy clothes from the movies.

And just like that, it occurred to me something was wrong with what she just said. “Excuse me, Ms. Valentine? What exactly do you mean, 'a price Father Time was willing to pay'?”

She silently bowed her head for a moment before talking in her usual monotone voice, “Father Time willingly put himself in grave danger in order to give you, the Spies, and the demons an opportunity to get to the Door and end this madness. It is taking the rest of us all of our efforts to keep Father Time from falling apart. I am afraid I cannot say more on the matter, other than that neither of you must tell the others going with you the sacrifice the Fool is taking to enable you to end this.”

I closed my eyes to process everything I've been told since I awoke. Suddenly having a body, Ricky captured by things hellbent on erasing everything, the very real possibility of the end of existence. Somehow, it all feels natural, like I've done this kind of thing all of my life. Maybe I have, but there isn't any time to think about that kind of stuff right now.

“Tell me what I need to do then,” I spoke with steely determination. “I'm going to need to get better as fast as possible if I'm gonna help. Is there any way of doing that?”

“You will need to build up muscle in your body once again, and the only way to do that is physical therapy and training. That is something that will require much time and effort.”

Then- then I'm useless. There isn't enough time or a way for me to get better in-

“That, however, will not be an issue as time is subject while we remain in the Realm of Time. What may seem like months to one person could be merely seconds to another here. Ms. Christi and I shall ensure a quick recovery and training in the skills you will need.”

Or maybe not.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Fortuna it feels like it's been years since I've seen everyone. It have actually been that long for all I know. Though I'm pretty sure to everyone else it'll be like they only saw me yesterday. Why am I even talking about time relation in a place that's subjective to it? Since when do I ever think like this? Must be my other self's personality seeping into mine.

“Fiona, is that you?” I heard a young man call out my name.

Low and behold, I was now face to face with the Bushy Tail Spies. To say they looked shocked was an understatement. Well, I guess seeing someone come back from the dead would do that to you. I guess the white hair and the fact I'm carrying Ricky's lantern was what tipped them off.

“The one and only!”

Maybe I said that a tad too cheerfully.

“But- but how!? That's not possible!” Mr. Occhio exclaimed in confusion.

“So is being a living form of ectoplasm capable of speech, intangibility, and higher level cognitive thinking. It shouldn't be, but I'm right here!” Silence and disbelief quickly followed my roundabout of an explanation.

Um, I think I might have broken them. Then again, I never did speak nor think this way before. I think me and my other self are slowly becoming one again. Feels weird and I'm not entirely sure this is true, but the thought is surprisingly liberating. Kinda like putting the final pieces of a jigsaw puzzle together or fixing a broken mirror; it's not perfect, but still whole, complete.

“Are you guys alright? Hello~? Anybody home?” I waved my hand in front of Ms. Caddie's face in an attempt to wake her from her stupor. It seemed to work as she swatted my hand away a moment later and regained her composure.

“Our apologies, Fiona, you simply caught us all off guard with your return to the mortal plain,” not so gently elbowing her companions to bring them back to reality. “It is not every day that something such as this occurs, especially when said person comes back with a much larger vocabulary than before.”

“Yeah, most people say something like when they saw me as a ghost, especially superstitious off-worlders. It's always funny when they try to throw water at me and say some weird stuff when they see me.” Giggling at some memories that came to mind.

“I have a feeling you don't have much respect for religious people,” she stated with a hint of sarcasm.

“What's a religion?” Tilting my head in confusion.

“Yep, that's Fiona alright,” Mr. Banito chuckled as he shook his head. “Clueless as ever!”

“Seriously, what's a religion?”

The spies just laughed as the tension that seemed to have built up had suddenly disappeared. Well, better a laugh at my expense than tension of hostility and shock. They probably thought I was impostor or something of the like. Wait, how did I know know that? I guess I'm gonna have to chalk it up to my other self there.

“I almost didn't recognize you, Fiona,” Mr. Ricky said with amazement. “Especially with your new look. Kinda cute I gotta admit.”

“Yeah, you look like you're ready to go to war,” Mr. Badito added. “Armed to the teeth.”

I couldn't help but blush at their comments for some reason. I've never had anybody say anything like that before. To be fair, I always wore a gray dress before. Though, I really wish Ricky were here now and say stuff like that. Where did that come from?

Oh, I never did say what I looked like, did I? Silly me! May as well start from the top.

I've cut my hair since my recovery; it's in a ponytail now and comes down to my shoulders. As for what I'm wearing, it would be a lot of stuff. Mrs. Christi and Valentine made me wear a black bodysuit and something called a 'kevlar vest' over the red jacket they gave me. Beyond that, they gave me a set of black pants full of pockets with a matching set of boots. They also made take a bunch of weapons like knives and pistols. I wonder why I'm so casual about this?

“It truly is remarkable seeing you alive and well, Ms. Fiona. Perhaps you could inform us as to how you were resurrected?” Mr. Occhio inquired as I could see the gears turn in his head.

“Well, that would require me to have been dead in the first place.” I may have been a bit too casual when I said that, because all of the spies gave me a strange stare after that. It's making me kind of uncomfortable.

“Um, I can explain?”

“Explanations will have to be for another time, Ms. Spectre,” interrupted an emotionless voice.

“Oracle? You sound... different,” Occhio spoke what was on the minds of the other spies as we all turned to face her.

“Indeed. I am the Oracle's current host. You may call me Valentine for the time being, but we have little time for anymore pleasantries.” The enigma that stood in front of us pulled a card from her hat and placed it on the ground in front of us along with the translator that she held in her other hand. “Through the destabilization of the space-time continuum, as you may have noticed around you, rifts in it called, 'portals' have randomly appeared throughout the time-stream, each leading to a different time period. You will need to traverse through these scattered portals to find the one leading to what is known as 'the Door'. You will know you are there when you see it.”

“Normally such a task would consume too much time and energy, but thanks to the efforts of Mr. ------- before he was erased, we were able to use the signal from the two halves of his translation device to determine the quickest path to the Door. I shall provide directions via telepathy remotely from here.”

“You will likely encounter many obstacles, including the Null and one known as 'Drake Binks'. Dispatching of both are considered secondary target, with your primary objectives reaching the Door and stopping the Bel. They must be stopped, no matter the cost. All of existence is depending on all of you.”

Fear and apprehension enveloped everyone in the area like a thick fog. It was so thick it could practically be cut with a knife.

“Jeez, you sure know how to lay it thick, don'cha ya', Oracle,” came the devil-may-care words of Ms. Lina as both she and Ms. Apaco finally arrived.

“Your speech was a piece of crap, Triclops!” Ms. Apaco spoke in her normal irate tone. “If you want 'em to crumble under the pressure, you're succeeding.”

“As entertaining as it would be to have a verbal spar pertaining to your lack of observational skills and send you into a tantrum when you are losing said conversation, we have more pressing matters at hand.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Giving a huff and seemingly brushing off the jab. “So are we gonna save the multiverse or what?”

“Very well. I wish you all luck and may Fortuna smile upon you all.”

Valentine slammed her hand on the card and stopwatch before we were all enveloped by a flash of light.