“How?”
“It moztly reliez on Complimentary Field Amplification. I got the idea from Superion. The Negaflux fieldz would
unweave
reality itzelf by exactly counteracting all KI within the blazt radiuz. Thiz iz beyond a trifle act of deztruction. Thiz iz beyond a simple explosion. Thiz iz beyond even obliterating matter. Thiz bomb negatez reality at itz very zource. You could say, without exaggeration, that thiz weapon deztroyz zoulz.”
“That’s hideous.”
“Yez. And itz side-effectz, though much lezz appalling, are fittingly cruel. It would forever scar the world by leaving something of a wormhole in itz wake. After the bomb haz detonated and done itz horrid work, anything traveling through one side of the affected area would instantly find itzelf on the other side since there iz no reality in between to get in the way. Unlike a bomb’s crater or radiation, thiz will
never
go away. It will alwayz remain az an undeniable reminder of our atrocity.”
“As horrible as this device may be, there are ways around anyone ever finding out about it. We do what we have to do. Now, where do I come in?”
“There iz a problem.”
“I’m listening.”
“You see, the functional range of thiz weapon at the minimal amount of energy required for it to function would be several hundred
thouzand
miles. The Earth itzelf would be swallowed up in the blazt, which is quite counter-productive to our rezpective goalz.”
“True.”
“So I need you to conztruct some sort of barrier, a wall of Intrinzity which the blazt cannot exzeed. Plaze thiz barrier around Nihel and Arel, then we place the Nega Bomb within the barrier, throw the zwitch, and bamf, they and the very space around them are no more.”
“Your plan is all well and good, but if this bomb of yours simply eats up KI, then how am I supposed to stop it
using
KI?”
“That iz what you have that renowned intellect for.”
Dr. Genius frowned.
“Yez, well. Given the extreme nature of the conzequencez of our mission, I will offer my own expertize in the area of Negaflux Theory to help in thiz endeavor.”
“Weight of the world again, eh?
“Hm. Old timez are here again and all that.”
“Upload the schematics for the bomb to me. I assume you’ve done simulations of the blast itself.”
“Of courze.”
“I’ll need those too.”
“Then let uz get to work.”
__________
Three Dakaels pinned down each of Nuklear Man’s limbs. Five others kicked him mercilessly in the ribs while the last five perpetrated such heinous acts as flipping his ears, poking his stomach, and doing that thing where you dangle a thread of spit over someone’s face before sucking it back up.
“No more—ouch—I can’t take it—ew—Please, for the love of Plazma, stop!”
“Well, dammit,” Safriel cursed from a distance. “Kadael’s got him.”
“The battle is not yet concluded,” Variel unsaid, his silvery eyes seeming to squint slightly.
“Yeah, you better hope so.”
“We will see.”
The Dakaels snickered amongst themselves while maneuvering into new positions. Five Dakaels now pinned both of the Hero’s legs to the ground while two groups of five each held on to his arms. The last two simply stood by his head and leaned into Nuklear Man’s field of view with devilish upside-down smirks.
“Are, are you guys finished with me?” Nuklear Man asked while obviously holding back tears.
“Not quite,” the two Kadaels looming over him said in unison.
“That’s really creepy the way you guys talk at the same time.” Nuklear Man felt his arms move against his will. He resisted, yet the forces animating his arms were impossibly strong. “Herg!” the Hero strained with all his Nuklear Might. “What, what are you
doing?!”
Nuklear Man began hitting himself.
__________
The Mall! Acres of green, fertile land transformed into something useful! The Mall! A beautifully ornate mass of buildings that seemingly grew into one another in ancient times! The Mall! A place of magic! The Mall! Where everything has an exclamation point and it’s okay!
Rachel circled the Mall parking lot. “How can there be so many people here? It’s not even noon yet and I can’t find a decent spot anywhere.”
Atomik Lad finally unreclined his seat to have himself a look-see. “Wow. It’s almost as bad as parking on campus.”
“I wouldn’t go
that
far,” she grumbled.
“Yeah, there’s no need to exaggerate the situation. There is nothing worse than parking on campus.”
“I’m just taking the next spot that opens up,” she said resolutely.
__________
“Ouch! Hey!” Nuklear Man protested uselessly.
“Quit hitting yourself, quit hitting yourself,” the twin Dakaels taunted. “Why are you hitting yourself? It doesn’t make sense to hit yourself! Maybe you should stop hitting yourself.”
“I’m not!” The Hero said as ten Dakaels pummeled his own fists against his torso.
“But you are. Don’t you see? Only a crazy person would keep hitting himself.”
“I’m not crazy!”
“Oh, but you must be. Because you won’t stop hitting yourself.”
“I’m not hitting myself!”
“But you are. It’s behavior that is contradictory to one’s own interests. No one likes to be hit, yet you are doing it to yourself. Why is that? Why can’t you tell us? Perhaps it is because you are so crazy from hitting yourself.”
“They’re making me do it!”
“No, don’t you see? They’re trying to stop you. Why do you insist on hitting yourself? You can’t fight back if you’re hitting yourself.”
What little grasp Nuklear Man had reality snapped.
__________
“We’re gonna be late,” Angus grumbled as his beard swayed in a breeze of motion.
“You know how Shiro is,” Norman said as he pulled up next to the Surly Scot.
“Aye, Ah do. But it don’t make no sense!”
“I think that’s part of it.” Norman started to fall behind Angus. “Besides, these rickshaw things are pretty cool. Plus, we’re practically
flying
past traffic.”
Their three speedy rickshaws bounced along the sidewalk toward the mall. The vehicular traffic filling the roads next to them hardly moved at all.
“Ah still say we’re gonna be late.”
“He likes to travel in the tradition of his ancestors.”
“He ain’t even
Chinese!”
Angus yelled.
“Hai!” Shiro chimed from Angus’s left. “Time of brothers. The now is inflation with positivities.”
The Mall’s Managerial Tower was just visible up ahead. It pierced the horizon and rose into the sky like a blade thrust in slow motion at the clouds.
__________
All he knew was the maddening and never-ending cycle of hitting himself. Had there ever been a time before hitting himself? Was there anything in existence outside of hitting himself? He could see the great vistas of the universe, horizons stretching beyond infinity and looping back into one another as they played themselves out in his mind. Oddly enough, they looked a lot like Silly Sam.
And he was hitting himself too.
But yes, in fact, there was a universe, a vast chasm of being, and it existed only so that Nuklear Man could hit himself. Everything there ever was only existed for this one triumphant moment. The clarity of it all was blinding. He could see every particle racing to this instant. But as suddenly as enlightenment had dawned, it receded: banished by its own brilliance, a light extinguished from its own radiance.
Even if the universe was specifically built for this singular moment, that’s all it was. A moment. There would be another immediately after it. All Nuklear Man had to do was concentrate. Just concentrate, and he could see through hitting himself.
“No!” he bellowed. The Dakaels were scattered and multiplied from the force of a spherical Plazma shockwave repelling them from Nuklear Man’s self-beaten body.
Nuklear Man stood. And he was not hitting himself.
“Impressive,” Variel unremarked.
“Admit it. You’re worried.”
“Hm.” Variel’s back seemed to straighten. “The battle continues.”
The Dakaels stood and brushed themselves off. “You can’t win,” they roared as one. “We outnumber you thirty-six to one!”
“Never tell me the odds!” Nuklear Man shot back.
They rushed Nuklear Man again. The Hero dropped to one knee and put up his hands, like any given statue of Atlas, as the first wave reached him. Nuklear Man was lost in great pile of Dakaels. The mass of bodies jerked and heaved up like a single entity. Nuklear Man held them over his head. The Dakaels were a giant ball of squirming limbs poking out at odd angles and curses screeching out odd phrases.
“All right,” he said. “I’ve had just about enough of you guys and your crazy hijinx.” He turned to Kadael who was still casually leaning against a tipped over cement truck. He now showed a bit more interest in the goings-on.
“Here ya go,” Nuklear Man said with a little, “Hup!” as he tossed the Dakaels.
“Hm?” Kadael said He was eclipsed by his cloned and airborne brothers. The impact knocked the lot of them into the cement truck which merely added its mass to their own as they all tumbled out of the construction area with an unhealthy amount of momentum and rolled out of sight.
Nuklear Man dusted off his hands. “I do hope there’s more of them. ‘Cause
damn
, that was easy. Other than the part where I was pushed to the brink of madness. But my sanity, and good looks, prevailed in the end.”
“RARG!”
Kadael thundered from off stage like an angry storm giant.
“Odd. I wonder what pissed him off,” Nuklear Man said.
Kadael stomped back onto the scene. He now towered just over two stories tall.
“Oh my,” Nuklear Man said while completely engulfed in the giant’s shadow. “Aren’t you a big fella.”
“It would seem Arel has resorted to his usual cruelty,” Variel observed from afar. “He used Kadael’s powers of matter absorption to destroy the multiplying Dakael. A cunning maneuver indeed.”
“Yeah, but now Kad is angry. And I’ve never seen him this juiced up before.”
“No doubt Arel plans to use Kadael’s rage at the ironic loss of his brother to his own advantage. If he succeeds, you may yet have your chance, Safriel.”
Kadael back-fisted Nuklear Man. The Hero thought it rather absurd that the fist in question was taller than he was. “Unfair, too,” he said before shooting through a collection of office buildings just outside the construction site. He came to an abrupt halt midway between the seventh and eighth buildings. “What am I
doing?!”
he asked himself. “I can
fly!
I don’t have to stand for this.” And he shot back through the same buildings to his point of origin.
Making all new holes along the way, naturally.
Kadael pulled back one massive arm and slammed his gargantuan fist into the Hero’s face upon his would-be victorious return. Instead, Nuklear Man was rebounded through the same buildings as before but with even more force than his first and second trips through. Each structure was now branded with three holes on their east and west walls.
Screeching halt. Return. Four holes.
WHAM!
Five holes.
Screeching halt. Six holes.
__________
Atomik Lad and Rachel strolled through the second floor of the Metroville Mall. “No wait. We’re on the third floor. I think.” Atomik Lad searched the expansive Mall Map in his hands as they walked through the endless maze of shops. “Here, take a left at this next archway.”
“You sure you know how to read that thing?” Rachel asked. She leaned over and inspected the map stretched out in front of Atomik Lad.
“Well, I was doing really good at the You Are Here room. It’s been downhill ever since. It’s a good thing we came in at the entrance next to Game Junction. We probably never would’ve gotten Turbo Fighter otherwise,” the glossy bright orange Game Junction bag hung in Atomik Lad’s hand.
They made a left at the next archway. It was a dead end.
“Way to go,
Magellan,”
Rachel said with a playful poke to his ribs.
Atomik Lad buried his face in the map. “There’s supposed to be a Taco Junction right here.” He peeked over the top of the map. “All we’ve got here is some off the beaten path ATM.”
“Just as well. I should get a couple bucks for lunch.”
“I don’t mind paying for you.”
“And neither do I. I am a modern independent woman, you know.” She squeezed past him even though there was more than enough room in the hall to have passed without making contact. The minx. Atomik Lad went back to his map.
Rachel stuck her ATM card into the machine and typed in her PIN. The onscreen display blinked the warning message DO NOT REMOVE CARD WHILE ACCESSING DATA. “I hadn’t planned on it, thanks,” she told the machine.
Atomik Lad pressed the map flat against a wall. “Okay. This should be simple. We started here,” he pointed to a room clearly marked You Are Here. “And that’s where I picked up this map in that treasure chest looking display. We went down the hall, past the Dungeon Master’s Arcade, through the corridor, down another hall. None of those are on the map.”
Rachel pocketed her money.
DO YOU WANT TO SAVE YOUR PROGRESS? the screen blinked.
“What a strange way to ask for a receipt.” She hit Yes and a small slip of paper churned out of the wall telling her how many funds remained in her account. “Not bad.”
The receipt and her money disappeared into her pocket. She turned to Atomik Lad. “How’s it comin’?”
He traced a path along the map’s twisting corridors. “There is something seriously wrong with this map.”
“Uh-huh, or the person reading it.” She examined the map for herself. “Wait. I don’t think this is right at all.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Yeah. See, we passed a Cutlery Junction and a Sunglasses Junction on the way here, but they’re not on the map.”
“I don’t think this map is to the right floor,” Atomik Lad said.
“Why would they provide a map that doesn’t correspond to the floor it's located on?”