Proto stared at the Lord of Dreams, hovering in a mirk of whirling stars. His words echoed in Proto’s head: “I hope you meant it! There’s no undoing it now!”

  He felt strange. Doubts rose in him like bubbles from a hot spring. But rising beside them were memories he had lost, memories of that last week in the breathing world. Together, they dispersed throughout him the warmth he felt deeper down.

  So he felt surer by the second of what he’d said to Somnus moments earlier:

  “When I came here, I thought all this was a false dream. I was wrong. This was as real as can be. But this isn’t where I’ll find what I’m looking for.”

  Somnus’ response still echoed in his head: “I see my mother got to you first. Kudos to her. You’re right. You won’t find here what you’ve already found elsewhere.”

  And, with a wry and wistful smile—and a long, last glance at the lounge, where Astrid, Lilac, Dahlia, and Proto’s celebrating friends stood frozen in place—Somnus had led the newly made Visitor down the stairway, through the grand foyer and into the courtyard. Past the twelve fountains they’d walked, through the lofty gates, and across the near-barren plateau outside, where thin-leaved trees were scattered sparsely.

  On the way, Somnus had explained some things to him: his accident; his cryogenic hibernation; how the Lord of Dreams had “called in a favor” from a fellow Element to mend Proto’s body.

  “Mind you, it’s not every day I call in favors from Dievas!” Somnus had noted. “Generally too busy being the Lord of Light and Master of the Skies to doctor up unfortunate runners, much less at the request of the Sovereign of Sleepytime. But no one else was nearby, and I always invite him to my millennial parties, free drinks for all, and, well, here we are.”

  Indeed, there they were. The precipice loomed before them, and beyond it sprawled the mist-fraught plain of reddish brown, where slumbering dreamers roved. Lone in the sky, a gloamy star was shining.

  Proto found his gaze falling to the Saturn emblem on his flowing Somnus-robe, which he had worn for his Evaluation Day. He hadn’t wanted to wear it, of course. But now, realizing that this first time in the robe would also be his last, he felt some sorrow welling in him.

  After all, it wasn’t just the robe he was leaving behind, was it?

  He faced the Lord of Dreams, who was smiling wistfully back at him.

  “Sad, isn’t it? How the best choice can mean giving up some of the very best things,” mused Somnus. “But you knew that. You’re a Visitor! Helping people make those choices is your job. Is, was. Might have been?”

  “Reminds me of something my mother always says,” the Lord of Dreams went on. “‘You can keep what you love, if you give up everything else.’ Well, here we are.”

  “It’s been a dream,” managed Proto.

  “That about sums it up,” agreed Somnus.

  Proto watched the shadowy figures roving aimlessly below. “So . . . I think I know what comes next.”

  “Do you?” Somnus eyed him sidelong. “Well, I’d say I’m surprised. But you’ve always seemed one step ahead of the world, since the day you arrived here and ordered my very favorite drink. At this point, as I said, I rather expect great things of you!”

  Proto looked down the precipice, its depths obscured by swirling mists, then back up at Somnus. “I don’t know about that. But I’ll miss you all.”

  “Oh, don’t do this to me now!” The Lord of Dreams scrunched up his face and brushed at an eye.

  Proto chuckled quietly but rubbed his own eyes too.

  “It’s sad, but there’s no need for sorrow. This is a beginning, not an ending,” Somnus continued. “Never stop dreaming! If you follow that advice, I’m sure you’ll see us all again. And we’ll see you.”

  “I look forward to it.” Proto turned from the robed man and faced his plunge into the future. Mists hid what waited there.

  “As do I.” The Lord of Dreams patted his shoulder twice, clasping it, then let him loose.

  Proto stepped forward—

  “Just take it one dream at a time, Proto!” called Somnus. “One dream at a time.”

  —and by the time the words were out, he was plummeting back toward where he’d come from. The red-brown floor rushed toward him.

  But the mirk of whitish grey rushed faster, whirling into a welter all about him, soon hiding what approached. He felt the lurch and tingle of vertigo, as he tumbled through vagueness toward his inexorable destination. Yet he didn’t strike hard dirt.

  Instead, one by one, tiny beacons flared across the grey obscurity all about him, constellating the aether. They whirled in a chaotic parallax along with him, as he toppled headlong toward nothing he could see. All was grey obscurity and swirling points of light.

  Then, abruptly, the misty nightscape blinked away.

  And Proto’s eyes blinked open to a dim blue glow.

  Indeed, that was all that he could see. Everything was bleary beyond distinction. What vague forms he perceived were mere gatherings of light against the surrounding darkness.

  Sight might be vague, but not his sense of touch. That, he felt keenly: He was cold. He’d never been so cold. How could he possibly feel so cold?

  Twitches shuddered through him—first feebly, then more vigorously. His arms prickled like they’d been asleep for years. He supposed they had been. As he shook, warmth rushed through his limbs, but it just drove away the numbness and left him colder.

  Normally, he’d be worried he was freezing to death. But he knew he’d just awoken from cryogenic hibernation. And the fact that he was aware enough to know that seemed to suggest he was getting warmer.

  Blurry though his vision was, he now saw he was lying in an egg-shaped pod. It had opened partway, like Pacman midway through a bite. The pale blue glow was streaming in from outside. So was the warmth. Mists were swirling where the cryogenic air around him met the room temperature outside.

  Blearily, he climbed from the pod and looked around a tiny room. It reminded him of some futuristic flats in Tokyo that he’d seen pictures of—the sort with a bed, a door, a screen, some control pads and blinking lights, and not much else. One wall was an opaque window with a door. The other walls were sleek grey, apart from some built-in monitors and what looked to be a closet door.

  It was at this point that Proto realized he was naked. This probably shouldn’t have surprised someone emerging from cryogenic hibernation. But he found himself scanning the tiny room, absurdly, to check if anyone was watching.

  “Nope, no cryogenic voyeurs here, Proto!” he mumbled into the mists.

  At first, he struggled to walk, feeling stiffer than he’d ever felt. But soon, like frozen meat left out to thaw, his frigid muscles loosened up. Within minutes, surprisingly, he felt pretty good. Indeed, he’d felt stiffer and sorer after some long car trips. Proto might’ve been a scuttled wreck when he’d passed out, but he’d awoken in tip-top shape.

  Proto recalled the words of the Lord of Dreams: “Mind you, it’s not every day I call in favors from Dievas!”

  Thanks, Somnus, he mused happily. And, um, Dievas, I guess. Maybe I’ll make it up to you someday.

  Oh, worry not, a kingly voice boomed back. Your descendants will take care of that.

  Proto blinked, wide-eyed, but heard nothing further. Yeah, probably just the voice of giddy delirium, he eventually supposed.

  Still, he did feel great. Probably even better than he’d felt while going on that last run. Back then, he’d felt like a hale and hearty bronze medalist. But now? Why, silvery thoughts were shining in his prospect!

  Well, aren’t you feeling proud, Young Man! Miss Beatrice’s voice calmly chided. You’ll have to find a 5k to run, somewhere in the postapocalyptic wasteland outside.

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  Oh, let him have his one warm moment! admonished Somnus-Proto Lawyer. Before he emerges from bodily freezing into a flame-scorched world.

  Yes, I suppose that between hyperborean frigidity and conflagratory perdition, we all need our little warm moments, don’t we? acknowledged Miss Beatrice. Very well. Welcome back to the breathing world, Young Man!

  I can always count on you to warm my heart, Miss Bea, he mused back.

  Oh, call me Bea, she answered sweetly. We’ve known each other far too long!

  Smiling faintly, Proto stretched, then shuffled to the closet. Inside, he found some drawers, a sink, and a toilet. He availed himself of all three in reverse order.

  Welp, System #1 is in order, he thought giddily, rising and brushing off his hands. As for System #2, I think your diagnostics will have to wait till after breakfast!

  And what a fast he would be breaking! Well over a year.

  “Someone call up Guinness. We’ve got a new world record holder here!” he mused, as delirious glee thrilled through him. He was awake!

  Flushing and washing his hands, Proto suddenly realized that they still had running water here. And electricity.

  So, the Elements didn’t quite destroy everything . . . ? I guess Atlean University Cryogenics Facility really is a Safe Place!

  Cheerfully humming the tune of his Atlean University Cryogenics Facility = Safe Place song, he slid one of the closet’s drawers open.

  Neatly folded inside, lo and behold, was his tracksuit. It looked exactly like it’d looked the day he got it at age seventeen—not the way it’d looked after his accident. That was good because, from the snippets he remembered, it’d been awfully stained at that point.

  In another drawer, Proto found his underwear, socks and shoes, all looking crisp and clean. So, he blithely got dressed, feeling like all was right in the world—at least, as right as it could be, for someone isolated in a cryogenics facility shortly after Doomsday.

  As he walked out from the closet, he peered again at that glass wall. Earlier, it had looked opaque. But now that the mist had dwindled a bit, he realized that the glass had just fogged up. Even now, he could see some clearness creeping up from the floor.

  Approaching the glass, he swabbed a finger against it. It came back wet, and the glass was clear.

  Idly wondering what lay outside, Proto leaned one eye against the clear spot like a peephole—then lurched back, startled, as an eye on the other side blinked back at him.

  An eye and red hair.

  Red hair?! Horror seeped through him.

  To be sure, he had hoped to find his true love waiting here. But his true love was Red, not Black! Red had black hair. Black had red hair.

  Did I misspeak to Somnus? Was I picturing Red’s long, long, black hair when I said her name? Did I say black instead? Did I say . . . Black?!

  Shit!

  For a moment, he debated whether to tell Black the truth about his true love, or instead—quite literally—embrace this twist of Fate.

  I mean . . . it wouldn’t be the first time, right? My first time, Black was right there with me! And I do really like her. And red hair. And happy endings. The perfect is the enemy of the good!

  And yet . . .

  Then, peering through the clear spot on the window, Proto realized two things.

  First, he hadn’t said anyone’s name to Somnus, Red’s or Black’s. He’d just told Somnus he’d find his true love up in the breathing world. The only person involved in determining who would be here was Proto himself, with that last text he’d sent before his car accident.

  Second, the girl outside might have red hair. But it was really, really long, like Red’s. She also had Red’s freckle-dusted face, not Black’s wry fa?ade; Red’s cerulean eyes, not Black’s hazel gaze; and Red’s curves, not Black’s rail-thin litheness.

  Nope, those definitely aren’t rails! Proto admired.

  Then, the girl outside was striding toward the window again and fixing her blue eye against the clear spot, staring straight at him.

  He cleared his throat and quickly opened the door leading outside.

  “What’s up, Slick?” Red was facing him, trying to keep a straight face but almost quivering with excitement. Her fingers were clasped around each other. “This is Red, in case you forgot. Not a whisky telemarketer!” She laughed nervously. “So, how’s it hanging? Tubular?”

  “Sorry, that was inappropriate,” she winced after a moment, when he failed to respond. “Or is it my clothes? Guess I’m not really—”

  Proto stepped forward and hugged her. As she let her breath out in surprise, it caught a little in her throat as a happy gasp. A second later, she’d thrown her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder.

  Funny. He’d only known her for a week. Before that, he’d spent years dreaming about approaching her. And after that week, he’d spent over a year dreaming of those few days he’d spent with her.

  Well, life is days relived for years. At least, the parts of life that matter.

  Neither of them wanted to withdraw, or be the one to withdraw. But, somehow or other, they managed to do it at the same time.

  “Ahem.” Red was beaming as she brushed her eyes. “Guess I’m not really dressed for the occasion, I was going to say. Our reunion!”

  Proto managed to wave dismissively. “It could be worse,” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “You could be wearing Summer colors in the Winter.”

  “Yeah, I still don’t know what the F that means.” Grinning, Red sniffed and brushed her face again. “And it’s not Winter. But you do look awfully cold.”

  Proto looked at his hand. “I think I’m bluer than you today, Blue.”

  “Understandable.” Red gestured at his cryogenic pod. “I’m actually kind of shocked how good you look. Given that you’ve been an ice block for a couple years.”

  “Eh.” Proto coolly brushed some hair off his forehead. “No biggie. My grandma used to freeze meat longer than I’ve been frozen.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong. You’re disheveled, pale as a Boo ghost, and, frankly, a mess,” she observed. “Seeing you like this, I would’ve called you Un-Slick with the Pasty Face. But—”

  “Ah. Thanks,” mused Proto.

  “No, what I mean is,” she went on, “last I saw you, your whole body was a mess of broken bones. I was afraid I’d have to wheel you the whole way back, if you ever got out! But I guess somehow or other, you healed while you were frozen. I thought you were out here Han Soloing in a solid block! But maybe they didn’t totally freeze you? Just partly, so you could keep healing? Or maybe the doctors fixed you up at some point?”

  Proto, of course, knew exactly how his body had been fixed up. He considered launching into an hours-long tale of his times at Somnus’ Palace, making the world a fairer place one dream at a time, all so that the event at the very end would make sense: “Somnus just arranged for his fellow Element Dievas to heal me!”

  Instead, he shrugged. “All I know is, I’m F’ing cold.”

  Red giggled. “Yes, well, I suppose that’s to be expected.”

  “So, ‘wheel me the whole way’ where?” he asked.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out, Un-Slick with the Pasty Face!” she answered.

  “Sounds good, Un-Blue with the . . . hm.” Proto’s lips quirked thoughtfully, and then his eyes lit up. “Little Red Riding Hair!”

  “Not bad.” Red pursed her lips appraisingly. “I mean, as for ‘little,’ I’m well above the 75th percentile. Just a couple inches shorter than you, Mister. Lucky I don’t wear heels! Can’t say I’ve ever felt little, except at pro basketball games and the Golden Corral. Also, I’m not sure how hair can ‘ride.’ But yeah, I guess my name and hair are Red.”

  Proto nodded grimly. “Welp, now that I’ve been thoroughly dismantled for the second time in two years . . . ”

  “Just joshin’,” she giggled. “Oh, we’re two peas in a pod, aren’t we? Or maybe two trainers in a gym battle?”

  He shrugged. “Why choose?”

  “Well said. Smell ya later.” Red turned and walked out.

  Proto chortled quietly and followed her through the doorway. “So, where to, now that—”

  He cut off as the words “now that the world’s been destroyed” were about to leave his lips. He realized then how weird he’d sound saying that, after being frozen for almost two years. How would he know about the flaming ruin wrought on the Earth by the Elements?

  He cleared his throat, then finished: “—now that we’re reunited, fellow partner in crime?”

  “Partner in crime? Is there something I don’t know about, Sir?” she asked lightly. “As for ‘where to,’ um, not back to town. Someplace new. As for ‘why,’ that’s . . . a complicated question.” She took a deep breath.

  Proto realized he had two options at this point. The first option was to spend the next few hours listening to Red tell him about the world’s fiery fate, while he acted suitably startled and distraught.

  The second option was to come up with some reason he’d already know about all that.

  “I should mention,” he jumped in, mind racing as he spoke, “I remember some weird snippets of people talking. Maybe recently, I don’t know. But they were speaking about some mass destruction or something. About ‘Elements’ raining fire, and ‘uncrossable Boundaries’ dividing the world into ‘Fragments,’ and modern civilization being destroyed. I mean, I thought it was just a weird dream. But judging by the look on your face . . . ?”

  “Huh. Those scientists must’ve come back later, after I left!” Red murmured thoughtfully. “Maybe the power failed for a while, with all the destruction. So you thawed out. That totally makes sense.”

  “What?” he said.

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. “Yeah, in short, not a dream. Fiery worldwide ruin, Earth fragmented by invisible Boundaries, and the end of modern civilization—check, check, and check. That’s about the size of it! The Pandaemonium, they’re calling it—when the Elements rained fire from the skies. I was wondering how I’d explain that. Guess I won’t have to, huh?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, you can tell me more some other day.”

  “Deal. Not today,” she agreed. “I’m sure you’ll hear plenty from others, where we’re going.”

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “Home!” She beamed, then turned and strode away.

  He followed, struggling to keep up, as she led him through the halls of the Atlean University Cryogenics Facility.

  This felt a bit surreal, or maybe ironic. He’d been here years. He’d dreamt up the whole elaborate scheme that had brought her here. He’d written a song about this Facility!

  Well, it was what it was.

  The Facility reminded Proto of how Wraithing Research Center had looked in Fyrir’s dream. It was full of smooth-edged electronics, soft hums, glareless glowstrips, muted tones of dark grey and limelit green, and muted tones of beeping notifications, with no employees left to be notified.

  Both this Facility and Fyrir’s Center felt like they were part of an elusive sci-fi future imagined in 1950s and 1960s novels, which had been made real in a few rich tech guys’ creations—like that donut-shaped Apple building, and that Tesla that looked like a stealth bomber—but which the rest of civilization never had quite reached. Never had and, alas, never would. Not till next civilization.

  Throwing open a reflective glossy door, Red strode into the world outside, where daylight beamed upon the brown-green of the raw Earth. He followed her toward a nearby cliff ledge. The leaves of far off trees were spangled with the noontide sun. The same gold radiance glimmered on a winding river far below, and sparkled in the cerulean skies, and in Red’s happy eyes.

  Red turned and shared her shining gaze with him, lips pressed and quivering eagerly, then faced the world again.

  “Welcome back to the waking world, Proto!” she finally spoke. “Been a while, huh?”

  His lips quirked up. “You have no idea.”