I had this side project idea banging about in my mind for a while. It was something different from my usual fare of research papers and analytical reports; those writings are never in short supply. So I had a bit of fun with this MoFic, working the idea of alternate universes from some old MoFo-based roleplays. I'll say that it is a story steeped in darkness, and to give fair warning, a slightly graphic scene or two is described in there. Nothing too inappropriate, but I prefer to be cautious about this. Wordy as it is, it's still far shorter than most creative writing I do, so give it a chance and you may find, with any luck, it's reasonably good. Enjoy.

Jason Rapidfire is obviously my intellectual property. Modesty Hobbes, Chastity, Georgia Stahlmansche, and Espadrille are copyrighted to Tergonaut.

"Go on," she urged sympathetically, repressing even the thought of smirking to herself. He nodded as he rocked anxiously on the chair, uncontrollably sobbing.

"And that's when…when…she just told me she valued my friendship but couldn't accept me as anything else," the scarlet hedgehog whined.

She leaned back in her chair, interlacing her fingers conspiratorially. In an attempt to make an emotional connection, she raised and dropped her head, complemented by a histrionic eye-roll.

"I can't imagine why. It's not in her nature to be hurtful, is it?" she asked in the kind of subtly patronising voice that psychologists frequently employ.

"No," he said, bitterly trying at once to defend and condemn the person in question. "It's not like her at all! But…she just tore my heart out. She doesn't understand that we were meant to be together! It's all happened before!"

She shook her head and smiled sweetly. "You're a handsome young man, though. Surely you can find someone more appreciative of your charms, right?"

"She's meant to be mine!" he growled with sudden ferocity. "It all happened years ago!"

At this, she cocked her head ever so slightly. "Elaborate on that for me."

The hedgehog stifled a sniffle and continued. "I…um, years ago, when I was just a teenager, I came to Sega City. Then, I went to the lodge for the first time and was accepted by the residents there. Sure, I didn't always get along. In fact, I specifically tried to spite one person there by seducing his girlfriend. It just happened that, in the process of so doing, I fell in love with her."

She remained quiet, silently urging him to proceed with his story.

"And…and we had many happy times together. But one day came when…well, she had to find herself. It was quite an adventure. But in the end, she never fully reciprocated my feelings the way I wanted. She was the object of everyone's affection."

"Even then, I see," she said. He gave her an odd look.

"That's…not the most comforting perspective, but yes," he conceded miserably.

"But what happened then?"

"Honestly, I don't know. It was all like a big dream, because I one day just became aware I was living in Nintendopolis. But the people about whom I'd dreamt were all real people. I don't know how that could have been if I'd never met them before. I came to Sega City, though, and it was like nothing at all had happened. It was all…a dream. A really strange dream."

"You don't suppose that it is something more than that?" she pressed, suddenly intrigued. Her face put him in mind of a cat that had spotted a mouse.

"Like what?"

"The universe is fractured by dimensions. In these dimensions, alternate realities exist, wherein alternate decisions are made with alternate results. It may just be that you, by some chance, slipped from one dimension to another. I should say that you are very lucky if that's true."

"Not really. The love of my life in one dimension doesn't understand me in this one. What good is that?"

"I've always been fascinated by the idea of interdimensional portals. I believe that the technology I've been working on might one day perfect travel through such portals. If you can figure out how you made this quantum leap, I may be able to transplant you to another dimension where you two are married and madly in love with each other."

He looked up with hopeful, awe-struck eyes. "You'd do that for me?"

"Mister Rapidfire, I know that you insist you are here seeking gainful employment, but when have you ever heard of a CEO personally interviewing a prospective employee? I am speaking with you because I know that you have been very deeply wounded, and there is only one way to bandage that wound."

Jason Rapidfire shuddered, his red quills shaking. "That would be?"

"You must take your revenge on her in this dimension. You will never be able to have full closure on your life in this dimension unless you finish what was started here. Tell me truthfully: can you say you had closure in the other dimension?"

Jason shyly answered, "No…"

"Then don't make the same mistake twice. This is for your own good. Trust me; I understand what it is like to be hurt so grievously," she said, looking sincerely distant for a moment. Jason swallowed hard.

"Miss Stahlmansche, you'd…help me…avenge myself? I…want to make her pay for humiliating me…for shaming me. I had nothing in my heart but love for her and she just threw it all away because she thinks she's too good for me. She has a boyfriend whom she hasn't seen in forever and she's pretending that's a better offer than me. I misjudged her. She isn't kind or compassionate at all. She's a horrible, sadistic wench with no greater desire than making everyone else around her feel inferior like they need her or they're nothing."

"Of course I would, Mister Rapidfire. She took everything away from you, just to hurt you. She constantly puts people she does not like down; why do you think you've heard so many negative things about me while you've stayed in that lodge? She's full of envy and hate, and you've come to the right place to set it straight."

Jason leaned forward and placed his paws on the desk, eyes wide as he looked at the red-haired woman sitting across from him. "Whatever it takes, Miss Stahlmansche. I'll do anything to make Modesty Hobbes suffer for this outrage."

Georgia Stahlmansche allowed herself the very slightest of smiles. "Marvellous."

"Hello? Anybody home?" called the young, brown-haired woman. She stood in the doorway to the lodge on the edge of the Sega City limits. She blinked owlishly, peering through her glasses and over several bags of groceries. Much to her surprise, there was absolute silence in the lodge. She stepped into the front room of the lodge, puzzling at this curious turn of events. When she was convinced that it was not some elaborate trick, she proceeded into the kitchen and set down the numerous paper bags, overflowing with comestibles. The sheer weight of all the groceries would have crushed lesser superhumans, but for her, it felt like carrying something as hefty as a kitten.

"Wonder where everyone went," she said quietly. She scratched her head for a moment before shrugging and setting to work putting away the groceries. As she did, a small pang of unhappiness pinched her heartstrings.

"They wouldn't have gone out to a carnival or something without telling me," she reassured herself. "And they wouldn't go out on some kind of mission that I wasn't aware of."

She began reasoning with herself, mostly to stave off the tickling uncertainty in her mind that something was amiss. Conventionally, the lodge was full of vitality as its inhabitants went on their daily routines of playing, working, conversing, swimming, hiking, and enjoying leisure pursuits. After several minutes of rationalisation and unpacking, she pulled back the sleeve of her jumper and looked at her wristwatch. Contained within was a multi-functional communications device, and it was standard issue to the Moderators of Sega City. She decided to contact a fellow member of the Mod Squad to see if something was happening and the news had not gotten to her.

"Miss Hobbes?" came the gentle, slightly accented voice of one of the newest residents of the lodge. She looked up to see a crimson hedgehog with intensely dark, almost black, eyes staring at her.

"Oh, Jason," she said, feeling relieved to see him. Jason Rapidfire had come to the lodge recently, and though he was comparatively normal relative to some of the residents, he did have his little idiosyncrasies. She reflected on how he insisted on calling her "Miss Hobbes" rather than simply by her given name, Modesty.

"You look…troubled," Jason said, idly playing with one of his quills in his paw. Modesty rolled down her sleeve.

"I was just thinking to myself how strangely quiet it is in here. Do you know where everyone went?"

The hedgehog paused. "Well, I've spent most of the day in my room. I've not felt particularly well since awakening this morning. However, I do believe hearing some of them saying they wanted to go skiing at Mount Kitsune. Perhaps they have gone thither."

Modesty let a simple, "Oh," escape her lips before turning to finish unpacking the groceries. She added a cursory, "Thank you, Jason," as she continued. Jason stepped into the kitchen and offered, "Would you care for some assistance, Miss Hobbes?"

Modesty smiled sweetly. "Thanks. You can put away these for me."

Jason rubbed an eye. "I dare say, Miss Hobbes, isn't it remarkably tranquil without so much consternation?"

"It is kinda peaceful, now you mention it."

"Miss Hobbes? You still appear distant. I'm beginning to worry that something serious is on your mind."

"No, it's nothing," she said, hoping he would not press the issue. Jason leaned forward, his eyes reflecting deep pools of sympathy.

"I know that we don't know each other terribly well, but if there's something consuming your thoughts, I do make an ideal listener. I may as well, with my big ears. I can pick up radar with these things, you know."

Modesty could not help but smile at Jason's self-deprecation. Even if it were not particularly funny, it was the thought that counted.

"It's just…have you ever been in the middle of a crowd and still felt lonely?" she inquired. He paused before nodding.

"I do, regrettably."

"I hate that feeling. I sometimes get it when I'm trying to do the right thing, even if it isn't the popular thing. Having authority comes with the burden of making unpopular choices. And even though I know, in my heart, that I'm doing the right thing, I don't always think it goes appreciated."

Jason pulled out a chair beside Modesty and gestured for her to be seated. While she obliged him, he pulled out another chair and sat as well, resting his elbows on the table.

"I can't speak for all the residents, naturally, but I can unequivocally tell you this: I, at the very least, appreciate everything you do for us, Miss Hobbes. There is no one kinder, no one more compassionate I know than you."

She looked away from him, down at the floor. "I don't like to complain like this. Sometimes, though…"

"Oh, say no more!" Jason insisted. "I understand precisely what you mean. But you deserve to express your deepest, truest feelings. We all should be so lucky that we can say freely what our feelings are and not have to worry about others thinking ill or otherwise differently of us, don't you agree?"

Modesty thought she detected some subtle hint of frigidity in Jason's tenor, but she reckoned it was her imagination. "I…I do."

"You work so tirelessly to act in our best interests, and here are all of these ill-bred plebes running about like children, always bickering and whining. They're just so self-absorbed sometimes. It's not that they're bad people, but they merely do not know any better. It won't do for you to seal all of these worries behind falsely chipper eyes and a listless smile."

Modesty was slightly taken aback by his vociferous support. "Jason, you're a very kind person. I don't know what to say."

"Promise me this, Miss Hobbes: from now on, when I see you smile, it should be a sincere smile. Don't hide your feelings."

The young woman broke out into a grin. "That's a promise I can keep! Now, let's finish unpacking these groceries. I know that when everyone else gets back, they'll be starving, I'm sure."

The two rose, both beaming. Both for utterly differently reasons.

"Well, this is interesting," observed Georgia Stahlmansche, one finger on her cheek in mock pensiveness. "It seems that I have caught a whole rat pack sniffing around in my office building. What am I to do?"

After pausing dramatically to hear the usual derisive insults that heroes generally hurl at their evil captors (ones usually punctuated with, "You'll never get away with this!") she closed her eyes.

"Your inability to see when a worm has wriggled right into your midst is astounding," she said casually, disregarding whatever ordure had been directed at her. "It would be better for you to expend more time reflecting on your own predicament than calling me names. After all, I certainly did not put you in this situation, did I?"

She turned her back on the large tubes in the room, each containing an individual lodge member. The tubes were made of a material comparable to Plexiglas, only with resistance to elements and weapons of all make and size. Even magic was rendered useless by the tubes. Confidently, Stahlmansche strode out of the room and to the lift, where her thoughts were wired by cybernetic implant to be transmitted as data.

"Paging Mr Rapidfire. Status report."

Jason was just putting away the last can of beans when Stahlmansche's transmission resonated in his head. He put his paw to his pendant. It was a gold pendant with a ruby in the centre. It was not only the sole means by which he had to remember his late father, but also his transmitter.

"This is Jason," the hedgehog thought. "I am presently conducting the next phase of the operation. All things are going as planned here."

"The same on this end," responded Stahlmansche. "You make quite an ally, Mr Rapidfire. Your efficiency is admirable."

"I always honour my contracts. I will let you know when the situation changes."

"Excellent."

He turned off his transmitter and yawned. Modesty turned around at this.

"Oh, Jason, are you still tired? I hope I wasn't keeping you up."

Jason grinned. "Not a problem. I may go back to sleep yet, though I just may need to be tucked in."

Modesty felt a sudden weakness surge through her. She was only superhuman; she had her urges like any other girl. When a reasonably handsome male made a pass at her, she felt that insatiable itch that she could never scratch enough.

The itch to censor.

"Um, I'm afraid you'll have to stick to counting sheep, buster," she said, exhibiting a fit of righteous prudishness. Jason laughed.

"I jest, Miss Hobbes. It's nice to see you back in form."

Modesty shook her head, trying vainly to hide her smile. "You're something else, Jason."

Jason grinned sanguinely. "I know. Now then, with all due respect, Mademoiselle Concierge, shoo! I hope to make dinner, and even with the limited time I've been here, I know your best feat in the kitchen was only causing a three-alarm blaze instead of the usual four."

Modesty scratched at her temple, pondering over what to do now. She detested idleness. "Well, I suppose I could always shovel some more snow…"

"I won't hear of it!" Jason declared with feigned seriousness. "No, Miss Hobbes. What you shall do is march straight into that room over there, put your feet up, and relax in front of the idiot box while I make dinner. I won't hear any arguments to the contrary; am I understood?"

"Perfectly," Modesty chuckled, shuffling into the next room. At the same time Jason hastily stifled a devious snigger, Georgia Stahlmansche was in her office-cum-penthouse and making contact with one of her ablest Armada Generals, Espadrille.

"Make sure to keep an eye on our new partner. After all, he went through the trouble of practically hand-delivering all of his little friends. Anything that seems to generate something out of the ordinary during his interactions with Modesty Hobbes should be reported immediately. It will doubtlessly be the catalyst to the opening of an interdimensional portal."

"Understood," answered Espadrille. "Maintaining surveillance as requested."

"Marvellous," Stahlmansche said, organising her files.

Sunset was beginning to paint the undersides of clouds with breathtaking shades of orange, pink, and purple. Modesty suddenly stirred, coming to the realisation that she had dozed in front of the television. She sat up and noticed a blanket was spread on her.

"Oh…I wonder…" she mumbled to herself, checking her watch. She leaned around in the chair to peer into the kitchen. Jason was seated there, quietly eating. Modesty rose and headed into the kitchen, blissfully unaware that she was being watched by a robot.

Well, robot might have been too simple a description. It was an artificial intelligence unit called an Armada Trooper, the pinnacle of productions by Effective Cybertronics Unlimited, the corporation of Georgia Stahlmansche. It had incredible stealth capabilities due to its remarkable speed and holographic projectors. It was the ideal unit for conducting espionage and sabotage. It was Espadrille.

It was also bored.

Espadrille sighed theatrically. Even though she was an elaborately constructed unit, she did not have a real sense of boredom; there was only her programming that suggested to her to be bored. She had perched in a tree for hours and was trying to sustain her interest in the dull goings-on between Jason and Modesty.

"These soft, hairy creatures take such an insufferably long time to conduct their affairs. How tiresome," Espadrille observed, continuing to stare through the kitchen window at the initiation of doubtlessly another drearily uninteresting conversation.

"Oh, Miss Hobbes," Jason said, looking up at Modesty. "Did you sleep well? I didn't want to wake you. You looked so relaxed for a change."

"I was," Modesty answered cheerfully. "I had a wonderful dream."

"Oh, about what?" Jason inquired. Espadrille grumbled at their banter.

"It was about my boyfriend. You know, the one who had to take a leave of absence for a while? I dreamt that he came back, bursting right through the front door. He came in, swept me off my feet, and begged me to marry him. I said yes right away; we seem to do funny things in dreams, don't we? Anyway, we had a lovely wedding and then we hurried straightaway to our honeymoon cruise, where we…Jason?"

Jason was gnawing on his bottom lip, his dull eyes staring down intensely at the salad he was stabbing with unnecessary brutality on his fork. Modesty sensed the proverbial temperature in the room plummet.

"I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me."

"No, it wasn't. I was just thinking about dreams in general," Jason lied coolly. Espadrille sniggered as he furthered, "Have you ever considered dreams as being, say, more than just nice thoughts?"

"Like what?"

"Call me mad, but I've felt like there are…forces at work in the universe. The universe is made up of many, many, many versions of reality. Like we, right here in this kitchen, are having a reality. There is another reality where right now, we're actually up on Mount Kitsune with the others, skiing the day away. And there is yet another reality in which we are not speaking to each other because we can't stand each other. There are so many different ways that life could play itself out, and they are. Alternate realities in different dimensions, if you will. And I think that dreams are little windows into those different dimensional realities."

Modesty pondered on this. "It's certainly an interesting thought. I suppose it's possible in the same way that some people believe dreams are prophecies of what will be. Either way, I wouldn't mind having the dream I just had become a reality right here."

Jason nodded solemnly, and resumed maliciously spearing his food. Modesty reached over to help herself to some salad and asked, "So, just what makes you believe in alternate realities?"

The crimson hedgehog had a wan smile. "I spent a whole Saturday watching all of Haruhi once. It was a life-altering experience. Not to the same degree as that Saturday I spent watching the entirety of Evangelion, but still…"

Modesty laughed. "Silly boy."

Jason gave a gentle shrug and laughed lightly as well. "Boredom's a terrible thing."

"I hear you, brother," Espadrille muttered from her vantage point in the tree.

"Sometimes, I think that dreams come at just the right time to help us out," Jason added. "They can remind us of things that are too important for us to forget, or to warn us of grave errors we are making. I know that sometimes I'm haunted by the nightmare of my father's death still, and that was almost a decade ago."

"I have nightmares a little like that," Modesty reflected. Jason arched an eyebrow.

"Go on," he insisted.

"I'd…rather not talk about them," she rebuffed, appearing ever so slightly sad. Jason nodded politely and said, "I understand. But here now, eat up. I made this salad especially for you."

Modesty tucked into her salad and marvelled at the hedgehog's culinary prowess. "Far better than I've ever made! What is it?"

"My own special blend of vegetables and unique herbs."

"Like what?" asked Modesty, quashing a yawn.

"Lettuce, carrots, a bit of cucumber that has been sliced thinly if you please, cherry tomatoes, a pinch of pepper, some portabella mushrooms, and a touch of blue lotus for colour."

Modesty put her hand to her mouth as she yawned fiercely. "Sorry, what was that last one? I think I might be the one who's still tired now."

"Blue lotus," smiled Jason. Modesty dully became aware that his smile was as bent as a twelve-bob note.

"I've never heard…of that in a salad before," she replied around another yawn.

"Oh, it's a rarity. Succulent, of course. Known best as that plant with soporific characteristics that the drowsy lotus-eaters ate in The Odyssey, you know," he rattled off amiably as he rose and approached her.

Modesty's head began to tilt to one side and her eyelids waged a hopeless war with gravity. "That's…nice. I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me for a moment while I…"

Her sentence never finished. She slumped, flopping out of her chair and into Jason's paws. Modesty was already well and truly in her own little dream land. Jason lifted her up in his arms and, for a moment, hesitated.

"She's so angelic," he said to himself. Espadrille tensed. If the hedgehog was going to play traitor, she had orders to address that problem in a hurry.

"But of course she would be when she's not running her mouth about her boyfriend!" Jason snarled viciously. "What an insensitive cow she is, kicking the lad who's already metaphorically down! I'll show her! I'll show them all not to trifle with the one they call the Saint of Mercilessness!"

"Are you quite done yet?" snapped Espadrille, standing beside Jason. The hedgehog frowned.

"And what are you doing here, Espy?"

"Making sure that you aren't wasting precious time with self-righteous monologues. I have been instructed to take the two of you back to ECU headquarters. Miss Stahlmansche has prepared technology specifically for this event. It will give you no end of delight in revenging your pitiable little emotions."

Jason looked down at the slumbering Moderator in his arms. Already, his head was gently spinning with the sensation of absolute power he had over Modesty. She was defenceless in her subconscious state, and Jason began to shake with a malevolent mirth.

"Who needs pity," the scarlet hedgehog posed, "when you have power?"

Stahlmansche looked impassively at the device set around Modesty's head. Modesty lay motionless on a table, her wrists, ankles, and neck strapped down with industrial-grade titanium. Even then, Stahlmansche had Trooper units stationed all around the table, ready in case Modesty awakened for any reason. Precaution was a watchword by which to live.

"This is safe, is it?" Jason asked, seated at a nearby chair. He, too, was wearing one of the strange devices on his head. It looked like a colander with a dial on the front. Several wires ran from the device to a large mainframe.

"Unquestionably. This machine will synchronise your brain waves to match hers, at which point you will be able to directly control all of her thoughts. Imagine being the puppeteer of a grand puppet show," Stahlmansche answered, assuaging his concern. Jason nodded and grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

"Capital. Fire it up."

Stahlmansche nodded to Espadrille, who stood at the mainframe and threw a few switches. Espadrille looked dourly at Jason and scoffed, "Oh, young love."

A sudden rush went to the hedgehog's head, and his vision temporarily went out of focus. Then he let his eyes lazily droop, and his smile broadened.

"This ought to be interesting," Stahlmansche observed.

Modesty started with a gasp. She blinked once or twice and then gingerly felt the back of her head. It throbbed with a dull ache.

"Did someone clobber me when I wasn't paying attention?" she asked of nobody in particular. She sat up and took stock of her surroundings: it was her lodge room. She was in her own bed. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Huh, that's weird. I don't remember coming up here after dinner. I…oh no. I didn't fall asleep on Jason during dinner, did I?"

She sprang out of her bed and raced for the stairs. She stumbled to a hasty stop when, instead of finding the usual stairs, she saw nothing but purple clouds drifting just below the floor, suspended as it was over an eternal night sky that stretched all the way into the interminable distance.

"What's going on? What is this? Jason? Jason?"

"You rang?" asked a voice.

Modesty spun around to see the young hedgehog standing there, grinning deviously. His paws were akimbo, and his whole attitude was challenging. Modesty took a step away from him.

"What?" Jason questioned. "It's only me, Miss Hobbes."

"Jason," she breathed quietly, "what happened here? Why are we all the way up in the sky?"

"So that you don't go running off anywhere, carissima," Jason said, his eyes glinting. Modesty hesitated at the foreign word.

"What did you call me?"

"Latin for 'dearest one', Miss Hobbes. I'm sure your precious boyfriend calls you that all the time. Ah, but that is right. He's not here. And I think we know why."

"W-Why?" she asked, assuming a defensive stance as he stepped closer.

"Because, what red-blooded male wants to be stuck with an intolerable prude like you, huh? The bloke's got to be aching for someone who isn't a stuffy, self-righteous ice queen. And you just ignored all the signs. No wonder it seems he just upped and left. He was sending you more signals than a frantic baseball catcher and you blithely ignored him. Oh yeah, that was a terrific relationship, all right."

Modesty glowered. "What do you know about this, Jason? It's not even your business, whatever my private relationships are."

"Yeah, like you should start getting snippy with me now. What about all the others who talk worse when you're not listening?"

Modesty faltered upon hearing this. "The others…they talk about it too?"

"Are you joking?" laughed Jason merrily. "It's everyone's favourite joke! There's not a thing private about that travesty of a relationship. Everyone knows the reason he left is because you were absorbed in having a man to make you feel special."

"That's not even the slightest bit true! I don't need a man to make me happy, and I don't know what makes you even think that."

"Nonsense. You've always had a hole in your heart because of what you are. You fill it by trying to inject that same kind of pain in everyone else around you. But it wasn't enough to be casual about your overly sanctimonious attitude. No, you had to drill it into someone's heart with such force that he'd be subject to the same kind of misery and dejection you've suffered. So you landed yourself a bloke."

Modesty suddenly became aware that Jason was inches away from her face. Although she swore he was shorter than she was, right now he was towering over her.

"You know," Jason breathed, "this starry sky is dreamy. Isn't this romantic?"

Modesty moved to push the hedgehog away, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm behind her back in one fluid motion.

"That's when you spied someone else whose heart you could trample on. A young hedgehog, full of hope and dreams, divulged to you how helplessly smitten he was with you. But did you open your heart to him? No, you continued to play your sick little games and toyed with his affection, rejecting his heartfelt love. All because of what a freak you are, Miss Hobbes."

"Let go, Jason," Modesty said, hearing the plea in her voice. Usually, she could pin a shorty like Jason effortlessly, but her arms felt rubbery and enervated.

"You've never let go of your anger at yourself, so you've directed it at me and everyone else. Why on earth would I consider letting go of you?"

"This isn't the Jason Rapidfire I know," she said through gritted teeth as he twisted her arm more tightly.

"Now you're seeing the real me," Jason said with a touch of a chuckle.

"Why are you doing this? I never meant to hurt you."

"But Miss Hobbes, surely you understand that now we have crossed that point of no return. I loved you, Miss Hobbes, from the day I clapped eyes on you. When I first came to the lodge, I identified you straightaway as the Sailor Scout of Heroism, an identity you like to keep secret. Nobody else could have possibly known that but someone who knew you closely. You see, Miss Hobbes, I come from an alternate reality where I competed for your affections against a whiny assassin and a chronically depressed coffee addict and a whole range of other losers. I don't know how I ended up here, but I know it happened for a reason."

"What is it?" she said, restraining warm tears springing to her eyes from the searing pain running up the nerves of her arm. She tried to will her legs to strike back, but they were rapidly giving way under her.

"Perhaps it was to correct a grave injustice in you, carissima. After all, the Modesty I loved in my reality was a caring soul. Sure, she had her quirks, but she was not the emotionally tarnished sadist I have buckling before me. When I became aware that I was no longer in my own reality, it was clear what had been laid before me. Sure, there were rules and conventions that demanded I should not interfere with things like this, but I simply care too much, don't you think?"

"You've got to be kidding me, Jason," Modesty growled. "All that time spent seething over me is beginning to melt your glue."

"And that is just the kind of brutal heartbreaker that lies underneath your deceitful shell. I couldn't just walk away from you. I was driven to stay; driven to dare. And so here we are, Miss Hobbes, in this unpleasant situation, all because of you. Because of you, Miss Hobbes, I am no longer compelled by reason. All that's left to me is the hate that you feel and that I feel now too."

"Freud would have a field day with you," Modesty retorted. She did not dare admit she felt completely powerless in his grasp.

"I don't know what you mean. He analysed dreams, carissima. Dreams are what keep us grounded in reality. Dreams shape us, dreams connect us, dreams move us, dreams guide us, dreams impel us, dreams characterise us, dreams inspire us. I think it bears repeating, Miss Hobbes, that we are both here because of you. So it is only fitting that I use this moment to take from you what you dared to take from me: dreams."

Modesty wrenched herself free of Jason's grasp and stumbled to the railing that separated her from a limitless plummet through the firmament. Jason smiled a crooked smile and remarked, "I wouldn't, if I were you."

She gave him a defiant look and cracked her knuckles. "I wouldn't either. Not when I have better options."

With her renowned agility, Modesty charged and leaned in with her shoulder to check him into the wall. When she connected with him, her charge had all the force of a broomstick against bricks. Jason did not so much as bat an eyelash at her feeble attempt, much less flinch. Disconcerted by the dismal results, she threw a jab and a straight at him. Both punches he easily caught in his paws before he twisted her fists roughly, sending nerve-wrenching pain through her arms.

"Jason, you're hurting me!" she finally protested as she sank to her knees. He looked thinly entertained by this statement.

"That's the whole idea."

Still clutching her fists, Jason spun around on his heels, dragging Modesty along the floor like the limpest swing dancer imaginable. He then flung her over the railing and laughed merrily while she careened into the abyss. Modesty floundered in the starry sky, trying in vain to stop her descent. None of the dark clouds couched her fall. None of the stars illuminated her dizzying plummet. Her screams were lost in the void of the plunge; she continued to claw at thin air helplessly. It was at some point when her panic-stricken mind was beginning to beg for release from this insanity that she somersaulted in the air and was able to see ground below her. Concrete ground looked so solid, so very solid. So very final, so very terminal.

Modesty shut her eyes. She puzzled at how calm she felt knowing the drop was about to end, but it remained disturbingly soothing. It could not have been any worse than more falling, she rationalised. Yet the abrupt stop did not come as she anticipated. She dared to open one eye. Her gaze fell upon the concrete, only about a foot away from her face. She opened her other eye and lifted her head. Staring back at her intently was Jason, who was squatting down with his paws on his knees.

"You're quite welcome," he said, rising to his full height. "I could've made this particularly messy, but I decided to be gentlemanly about it."

"I'm so grateful," she managed to say with some sarcasm, eager not to betray her state of mind. Jason shook his head.

"Still with such an arrogant mouth. You're not even deceiving yourself, much less me. That resistant attitude will erode soon enough, and in your broken submissiveness, you will beg for me to grant you freedom from the pain. And I will love every delectable second of your exquisite suffering."

"I'll never beg you for so much as the time of day. You're the one who needs to be granted freedom-from your own cowardice."

Jason's foot connected squarely with her chin, knocking her head back momentarily. She winced and gingerly felt her jaw while he shook his head and tittered.

"What is it with you and the comic book hero manner of speech? This isn't fiction, carissima. If I didn't intervene, you'd be caking this whole area with your blood, just in case you've forgotten I've suspended you a foot above the ground."

Exasperated, Modesty let out a shout of anger and frustration. "What do you want from me? To tell you that I love you as if it'll make everything better?"

"What I want is for you to understand the kind of suffering to which you've subjected others. Look down. Look at the dejection you caused elsewhere."

Modesty cast her eyes down and was surprised. She could see herself, Jason, and two others crowded together in a small room with old, wooden walls. Something about the sight of this was instantaneously familiar to her. There was also something dreamy about being able to see herself in this strange vision.

One of the four was a young woman with short, ginger hair. Her freckled face betrayed her misery as she leaned her head against the wall. Anger boiled up within her and she pounded the wall with her fists in frustration until sadness overcame her and pulled her down to the floor to elicit warm tears from her eyes. The scene shifted to Jason bursting out of a castle, bashing the wooden double doors back so forcefully that they clattered against their hinges and shook the entire edifice. The vision faded.

"You see?" Jason scoffed. "You've been doing this across many an alternate reality for quite some time. The only thing that's changed is the degree to which your head is stuck up your…"

"Why does that seem so familiar?" Modesty demanded. "Are you using some kind of magic to warp my memories?"

"That is the reality whence I came, carissima. You were caught between loving me and loving that other girl, and in the end, you spurned both of us for yet another girl. I think you have to appreciate just what that feels like…what kind of anguish that brings to the heart. A demonstration is in order."

Jason walked casually to Modesty's side. Suddenly, he brought his knee down on her back, pinning her to the ground. She gave a cry of shock while Jason's paws fixed on her left arm. He gave one mighty tug, and her scream rent the air.

"Oh ho, that's nothing," Jason chortled. "We're just getting started."

He moved to her other arm and repeated the process. Through her agony, she could see her arms were still attached, but she would not have known the difference otherwise with the kind of tremendous pain fraying at her very ability to form any cognitive thought. She closed her eyes, from which hot tears sprang and ran down her cheeks. Modesty gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the pain. Upon opening her eyes, panic allowed her to do just that.

"Oh, how odd," remarked Jason. "It seems we're underwater, and only one of us has been handily bestowed with the ability to breathe down here. Tell me, what does it feel like to drown in a sea of self-doubt with nary a lifesaver in sight?"

Modesty could barely focus on Jason's words. She struggled in the dark waters, trying to reach the light at the surface. With her arms in such a condition, however, she could only flop about ineffectively. Worse still, she could hear voices resonating in her head; the voices of people with whom she lived and worked, laughing and jeering.

"She's probably only in this relationship to make herself feel special."

"Always acting like she's got a monopoly on morals, just so she can act all superior to the rest of us. She probably is a real witch in private."

"She could never actually love anyone but herself. That's why no one likes her."

"Everything has to be done her way just because she says so. A spoiled pig, if you ask me."

"Insensitive of her to treat others like that. I wish I had the pluck to hurt other people's feelings so freely."

"She's never amounted to much of anything, really. If she didn't have us to boss around, she'd have nothing. She hates us only because she knows she needs us."

Modesty stopped struggling and began sinking further into the darkness. Her lungs were on fire, and she could not fight it any longer. All she cared about, all she craved, all she desired was sweet release.

"Please," she begged as water began filling her mouth and nostrils, "end it…"

"Shall we end this ridiculous display and move on to the heart of the matter?" Espadrille asked, turning to Stahlmansche. Stahlmansche smiled serenely.

"Actually, I was about to ask you what your thoughts are about what we are beholding. Miss Hobbes is breathing more erratically now. Her vital signs are slowing. Mister Rapidfire is clearly enjoying himself. Just look at that smile on his face there."

Espadrille glanced at Jason, who was seated in the corner with his eyes closed and his lips curled in a smirk. Espadrille frowned.

"I don't know what you expect me to make of this maniacal exhibition. He clearly is so engrossed in whatever torture he is inflicting that he himself is losing control of his mind."

"Isn't it fascinating?" Stahlmansche asked with a dry laugh. "In driving her to the brink, he is going crazy as well. Perhaps he never had total mental control. Still, our focus should be investigating that reaction. It seems he created a portal between two realities, however brief it lasted. If it happens again, we will have to seize our opportunity."

"Do we know he will do such a thing again, or that he will even be able to do so?"

Stahlmansche let a grin spread across her face that would have disturbed the Grinch. "Anybody can be convinced to do anything for the right motivations."

Stahlmansche exited the room and returned, approaching Jason with a device resembling a small horn in her hand. Espadrille watched silently as Stahlmansche planted the device against Jason's headgear and spoke quietly into it.

"Mister Rapidfire, I hope you're listening. We don't have all day here, you know, but I can promise you that if you conjure up a link between two worlds like you did before, I will let you use this technology to destroy Modesty Hobbes in as slow and satisfying a manner as you desire. Doesn't that sound like a fulfilling and pleasurable offer?"

The smirk on Jason's lips stretched a little wider.

Darkness was swirling over Modesty's eyes. Her consciousness was fading. She made one final attempt to raise her arms, but the excruciating pain forbade her. She could not even muster enough concentration on breathing.

Maybe it would be easier just to close my eyes and go to sleep…what could I even find at the top? There's nothing and no one to go to…

Her eyes closed and her head sank in resignation. She drifted peaceably through the water, her senses muted by the swirling depths.

I only wish I could have made amends…huh?

The water rushed and eddied around her, garnering her attention. Modesty could feel something pushing at her back, propelling her through ticklish bubbles. A familiar voice whispered in her ear, "You can't give up! Not yet, Modesty!"

Just as Modesty began to recall whose voice it was, a fiery pain in her lungs reminded her how close she was to drowning. A mighty shove thrust her above the surface of the water, and she gasped hard before coughing violently. Modesty struggled to reclaim control of her breathing, dully aware she was being pulled to shore. Addled by the shock of the recent events, she could barely breathe, much less consider what was happening to her now. A sensation of soft sand under her back and in her hair gave her a vague indication of her saviour depositing her on a beach. Her vision was fuzzy; she had lost her glasses somewhere in the sea, and consequently everything was slightly out of focus. The sun was behind her rescuer, making his features hard to discern.

"Is…that you?" she h