Silya glanced over to where her Demongo nano, Aoi, sat sulking beside her. He was bored out of his mind, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t given him a choice: She’d told all her nanos that she’d be busy that day and to go do their own things--so long as they didn’t leave the Mt. Blackhead base--while they waited. It wasn’t her fault that he didn’t listen.
The young woman reclined back, nestled comfortably against the wall of a nearby building on the drab blanket she’d stretched out along the ground. A handful of other soldiers were scattered around, buying or selling various wares. Although the base in Peach Creek had recently seen a slight boom in trade, Mt. Blackhead was still the best spot for it. Fusion fighters of all expertise passed through, loaded down with all sorts of gear from their adventures: The ones that couldn’t travel far from the jungle were always eager to get their hands on whatever fragments of civilization that they could. Left on standby until her next assignment, Silya figured she’d use the time to earn a few extra taros. Like the people around her, she had an odd assortment of gear lying at her feet for sale.
“I thought you were going to do something important,” Aoi mumbled, his arms folded across his chest. His fiery, blue eyes narrowed as he looked up at her with a firm pout, “Why are you bothering with this anyway? We don’t need the money.”
“You think looking after forty of you little guys is cheap?” she casually replied, “I’ve saving up.” True, they were more than well off for the time being: On top of getting paid both as a soldier and by Dexter as a research participant, she didn’t have many expenses because they were constantly on the move. For now. Her thoughts were on after the war was over.
If Earth finally chased away Fuse and the war ended, well... to be honest, she didn’t know what she’d do with herself--besides keep working for Dexter anyway. If possible though, she wanted her nanos to share that future with her. The kind of small apartment she lived in before the war wasn’t ideal. Silya hadn’t said a word to her team about it yet--she wasn’t sure what the army had in mind for everyone’s nanos or even if she’d be ready to settle in one place by then--but she wanted to make an actual home somewhere for all of them.
“We could be fighting fusion monsters though!” he insisted.
“No, I have to wait for orders,” she countered. Honestly, it felt odd. As an independent agent, she was used to largely running from assignment to assignment aside from her work at Dexlabs. With her signing on to the much larger project dealing with Fusion Ice King’s crown, however, she felt constrained. Mt. Blackhead was the farthest she could go and only then because she could climb onboard the S.C.A.M.P.E.R. quickly in case she was called in.
And she hadn’t been since that first time. Thankfully, she hadn’t had any lingering negative effects: The wait wore on Silya’s nerves more than anything. If it weren’t for that job, she’d likely be mowing done monsters in the Darklands right about then. Instead, she was selling shirts, swords, and accessories.
She bundled her jacket tighter around herself, drinking in the thin beams of sunlight that pierced through the clouds whenever she could. At least the days were getting warmer. It made sitting out here easier. “If you’re that bored, you can hang out with the others.”
The clear dismissal only seemed to make the miniature demon that much more stubborn. His pout deepened into a frown and he stared hard at the earth. Then, creeping forward, he pulled on of the folded shirts--a black Gangreen Gang tee--toward himself to use as an improvised blanket before settling back down again.
Silya snorted good-naturedly, then scooped him up much to his surprise. Aoi tried to push away from her in protest, shouting at her all the while, but she easily took the shirt and shrugged it over him, tugging his cloak back out from under it. It was so much larger than him that he couldn’t even fit it on his shoulders: It would slide off as soon as he lifted himself from the ground. Still, it was warm, and for a moment all he could do was stare at her, indignant, but comfortable.
She always thought of her nanos more or less as kids, but he really looked like one then. She couldn’t contain her smile, hard enough as it was to fight back outright laughter. It was hard to believe sometimes that such a little guy could spawn, in part, from the monster that was the real Demongo. She could only imagine all the ways he’d curse her for poking fun at one of his nanos, for no other reason than taking it as a personal offense.
The minor spat had gotten them attention. A couple of fusion fighters walked over to gush and chuckle, only embarrassing Aoi further as he fought with the fabric to scramble out of it. One of them took a quick picture and bought another one of the band shirts. Silya watched her comm as the transaction went through, bid the pair goodbye as they left, and then smirked down at Aoi--who was still holding the shirt in a tiny, angered fist. She showed off the purchase.
“Well, it looks like you at least drew in a customer,” she teased him, “Maybe I should keep you around as a model.”
The next day—bundled in layers of clothes with a large, black sweater draped over her—Silya marched up the spire to find around a dozen soldiers at one of its lowest bases all gathered by the Ice King’s all but forced invitation. Everyone had a holstered weapon, but fortunately, the area had already been cleared of Penguin Pests. The Ice King had manifested a table beforehand, and had laid a small spread of chips, veggies, dip, liters of Super Porp, and what looked like some kind of potato salad, but they were either slushed or frozen by the time anyone got there. Despite this, everyone had one snack or another pushed on them.
Waiting for the last of the stragglers to arrive, Silya sloshed her iced drink around in its cup without taking a sip, not for the first time that day rethinking her decisions in life. She wondered how insane she had to be to let herself get talked into this and whether or not it would amount to anything. Maybe she’d just spent so much time as one of Dexter’s lab rats that rational thought had abandoned her a long time ago.
Whatever the reason—passion, desperation, or her own madness—there she was, standing in the cold, about to take lessons from a raving lunatic. Well, at least she wasn’t the only one crazy enough to be there…
Even if only a few others showed up after her. Their pitiful numbers didn’t deter the wizard: He just glanced them over with a thoughtful pout and affirming nod before deciding to himself that they’d waited long enough. He raised his arms in a calling gesture, “Alright, alright, everybody, settle down.”
No one was saying much to begin with, all dialogue confined to a dull murmur, but they stopped to fire incredulous glances at him all the same.
The Ice King took on an authoritative persona that was almost comical, pacing in front of them as if he were their commander, ready to lead them into battle. “Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve called you here… It’s because your brains are all mush!” He waved his arms at the group. “You’re telling me that you all are capable of drawing from some kind of superpower, but you can’t even use it without a bunch of sciency junk? If it’s imaginary energy, then you should focus on using your imaginations a little.”
“Easier said than done…” someone muttered to Silya’s left. They were right. This was just the kind of thing she was worried about. IE went a lot farther than what the Ice King described—if it didn’t, then it would’ve been seen used in almost every aspect of human life—so, no, just ‘using their imaginations’ wasn’t enough. She glanced back the way she came, already considering her escape.
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Who knew what kind of response he was expecting, but clearly whatever speech the wizard had prepared didn’t go much farther than what he’d already said. He glanced over the group again, the kind of look of his face that begged for someone else to step in. When no one did, he held his hands up, “Uh… look, maybe it’d just be easier if I show you.”
A light blue aura shimmered around his fingers, a clear sign to everyone of Ice King’s elemental magic. Some recoiled instinctively, hands lingering by their sheathes and holsters. Instead of directing it at anyone there, however, Ice King instead aimed for the ground. The magic scattered at their feet, manifesting in crackling icy, geometric patterns. Then it swarmed around them, a cold chill pouring over them like a sudden, snowy blast of air. Silya shielded her face from the winds with one arm, reaching for her sword with her free hand in case a stray bolt of ice trapped her legs.
Despite the Ice King’s bad history of encasing people in ice, however, none of them were harmed. Instead, the frosty cloud distorted their surroundings into some kind of strange, starry void washed in shades of green. The spire was gone and they were left hovering in the air. A mix of excitement and panic took over the group.
“What is this? Where are we?!”
“Is this some kind of imaginary world?”
“It can’t be. I’m checking the readings now, but I’m only picking up low traces of IE.”
Silya said nothing, taking it all in. There was no way this could be an imaginary world. Not that she’d ever had the chance to explore one herself, but no one could just summon one up like that! Besides, it didn’t look like much of any kind she’d seen from the reports about them: They were always spawned with some kind of wonderland-like element to them. There was nothing here. Nothing besides them…
Her eyes fell on the Ice King as their brief talk from yesterday entered her mind. Sure enough, he called them back to attention with a proud grin on his face, “Fellas, you’re in my imagination zone! Pretty cool, right?” He wiggled his brows. “It’s like a mindscape where anything goes. Even Finn’s got one of these—and he’s got the imagination of a missing sock!”
“Mindscape?” a young man echoed to her right.
Were they all currently somehow connected to the Ice King’s thoughts then? Like some form of telepathy? She grimaced, unsure of how comfortable she actually was with that…
“Yeah, everyone’s got one they can go to. Or should, I mean, I guess you shmoes never figured that out. But that’s about to change.” The Ice King hunted through his robes until he withdrew a worn, ruddy blue book. “You guys read my fanfiction, right? Since the ideas are all written out for you, it shouldn’t be a problem bringing Fiona and Cake and the rest into the world.”
Caught between a mix of irritation and guilt, Silya didn’t know what to feel worse. Did he make us come here just to see if we could bring his fanfiction to life? It didn’t exactly surprise her: Of course there was a catch. There was always something like this no matter what villain joined the Fusion Fighters. On the other hand, he had such an eager, puppy-like expression on his face that she felt bad for him. She bit her lower lip. While she didn’t have the hurt to dump her copy, she’d buried that brick of text somewhere so deep into her storage bank she didn’t even know where to find it without combing through everything.
One look at the others told her that none of them had read it either. Few of them answered him, and the ones that did had some excuse or another:
“I’ve been fighting fusion monsters, so I haven’t really gotten a chance to sit down with it…”
“Y-yeah! A-and it’d be a shame to rush through the story: It’s so… detailed.”
Miraculously, it worked, although the wizard still seemed disappointed. He lowered the book, muttering a faint ‘oh,’ before a sudden anger took over him directed at no one in particular. “Well, this was a waste of time!” The charge of emotion came and went, replaced with an excited smile, “Oh wait! I can just read some of the good parts aloud right here then! Makes sense, since it’ll keep us all on the same page.”
This time, at last, Silya finally interjected, raising her voice as a look of dread passed over the soldiers, “I think we’re good, Ice King.” Caught under his curious stare, she thought up something quick, “Think about it: No one’s gonna know your characters quite like you do anyway, so even if we managed to create them, they wouldn’t exactly be the same.”
She wasn’t lying: It was a case that happened all the time with imaginary friends. People had their own needs, desires, and impressions, and those things always imprinted on imaginary beings. It was even the case with their nanos, who took traits from themselves as often as they did their original counterparts.
“Artistic interpretation and all…” she finished, scratching the back of her head. “So, if you want to see Fionna and Cake, don’t you want them to be just like you’ve written them?”
He stared at her hard for a long moment—so long that she wondered if he’d snap again—but instead his expression turned a little sad and he dropped his gaze to the book in his hands with a casual shrug. “Yeah, sure, but I tried all that before. Even kidnapped some buddies of mine to find a life-giving mage to do it, but it didn’t work. Took forever to write all the stories again after that…”
She wasn’t even going to ask: Somehow, she just knew that they and the Ice King had extremely different ideas about “buddies.” However, it gave her an idea for how they all could get what they wanted. “How about a trade then? There this place called Fosters’ that specializes in imaginary friends. They might be able to help out. You show us how to enter our own imaginary zones and we’ll get you in contact Fosters’.”
Silya could feel the eyes drilling into the back of her skull from her fellow soldiers. They could judge her all they wanted. Frankie would probably kill her for passing the Ice King along like this, but after all the times she’d had to look after Cheese in the Darklands, the young woman felt that turnabout was fair play. If this was their chance of getting one step closer to mastering IE, then it was worth it: He could make an army of Fionnas for all she cared.
Before she could get an answer though, one of the other Fusion Fighters spoke up, “Wait… If this is a mindscape, then what about our physical bodies?”
The area went so silent that you could hear a pin drop. All heads turned to them, eyes wide with growing realization. The wizard answered somewhat dismissively, “Duh, this is an imagination zone: It’s not like I could bring those here. You’re lucky I was able to get everyone here at all. I never tried it with so many people.”
“But if we’re all here, then who’s watching our backs in the real world?!”
I wouldn’t call myself a collector in the game, I just like what I like. Might doodle some of the outfits at some point in the future though outside of my character’s casual look, simply because she wears the different gear for whatever her job is at the time.
Fighting fusion monsters doesn’t leave much open for the holiday season, but every soldier needs a bit of time off--even if they’re late setting up. This was for my other Dec. prompt for this year, Chilling Out.
Featuring @tonixman‘s character, because he’s been my bud when I needed someone to share the game with, and @time-travellers-n-wannabe-heroes‘ Lia. Newly gifted penguin moms, unite!
Hey, guys! For those of you interested in my FusionFall fics who don’t want to hunt through my blog, I’m compiling all of them into one collection over on my FFN account. Large ones, like the prompt I covered in October, will just be treated as one, long chapter, so each shouldn’t be too hard to find. They’re each individially titled as of now, but if you all would prefer for me to include certain dates to account for the different prompts, please let me know. Enjoy!
