When the atlas was suitably modified, and Red_Two's initial rage and sadness had run its course, he placed the book down on Emmet's desk gently, and handed Emmet his pen back even more so, looking down off to the side. His throat made a quiet noise, before he turned back to the bookshelf and looked down into his lap.Emmet now properly looked over the atlas: lace names were crossed out with new, unfamiliar ones replacing them; full swathes of coastal land was scribbled out, presumably underwater and new borders were drawn on, particularly centred around mountainous areas. He was surprised to see particular rivers swollen up, and new lakes and estuaries where there were previously none.He looked back at Red_Two, his face crumpling. Pain medication or not, the man was sat hunched over, back shaking and soaked with sweat. His hands were laid limp at his side on the floor, fists unclenched, but elbows and wrists wobbling regardless, telling him all he needed to know.

The falling rocks entombed his family, community, and all he knew. His ears were deafened by the colossal crashes and his eyes by the humungous dust clouds. He couldn't hear anything or see anything, and he felt as if he was coughing up blood, trying to free his throat from those all-encompassing streams and plumes of rocks and dirt, hellbent on suffocating him. He watched his home fall into a giant heap of dust, crushed under his own weight. He looked up towards the cloudy, grey skies, and saw a swarm of tiny, grey dots under the cloud cover. He needed to rescue his family. He stood to sprint towards them, only to see the first of the burning, red flames to fall from the sky. He awoke. The sun had not arisen. He laid awake, blanket thrown aside, for the rest of the night. The morning, his forth day at the facility, the newly named Jasper had learned over breakfast from under the glaring, wrathful eyes of Doctor Johnstone, occurred just like

Fire had run through the forest, alighting every bush, shrub, and tree, and creating giant, black plumes of smoke, chocking everything. It fell from the sky, from the clouds like rain, and Red_Two knew, peeled to the shattered cliff edge, that he could not go back. His legs shook and his entire body shivered, too weak to move against the burning stones fell from the community. He was sweating and crying and the dust in his eyes just wouldn't leave him alone. He tried to move away from the cliff edge, crawl at least to the cool of the river, but his body wouldn't listen to him. Hot bile rose from his stomach and Red_Two vomited off to the side.He lay face down on the floor, eyes glued to the upwards, gazing up at the floating city.He just wanted to close his eyes and see that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to wake up from his hellscape dream.He woke up.He woke up again.And again.And again. His name wa

Rehab consisted of practising walking and simple exercises and stretched under Doctor Johnstone's watchful eyes, with her strict hands correcting any imperfections with his posture as he moved through his motions. When he was finished for the day, Jasper didn't know what he was supposed to be doing now. Doctor Johnstone was writing up her reports and would be completing whatever research or work she would be doing.Alice would be doing whatever work she was doing and Emmet was asleep on his bed.He could search for his time machine and microchip, but he had no idea where it was, and it was highly likely that he was being watched at all time. He wasn't being trusted yet, and as a stranger who showed up one day who was massively injured.And now three people possibly knew that he didn't know what a mini trident was.Jasper had two viable options: could either make his way back to the common room or his own recovery room where Emmet was. If he went back to t

The sand was dry and dusty, too slippery to grip by itself with his shrivelled, wet hands alone, but the grains had become more solid, and rough enough on his bruised, freezing skin to help him grip onto a large, gnarling, tree root. All he could miserably do was hold on, too weak to do more than keep his head above water and breathe. His arms burned and his stomach wailed. He wanted to cry but found that no tears were coming. He tried to make a sound, but nothing but a pathetic cracking noise emerged from his throat.Was it worth pulling himself to shore? Was it worth doing any of this? If he just let go, he would reunite everybody from Gryaz after he made the journey back in the afterlife, when his soul was severed from his useless, beaten body, strong, and ready to trek back to the gorge.And if he just let go, he wouldn't be in this river anymore, freezing cold and burning at the same time, the sensations mixing, overlapping and swirling in his chest, making him si