Revelation 20

Yesterday Jack told me he would turn me solid again only if I went to the Archive.

I had no other choice. Again.

He led me through the dank tunnels again, filled with bone spiders. I’d since learned that they were the domain of Grandfather, who directly oversaw the Archive.

Though the Eye theoretically did the same for the Panopticon, I had rarely seen it, save for the periodic run-ins with Judgment.

Once we arrived at the Archive, we were led by a few of the Gifted to a chamber where Grandfather sat at a large mahogany desk, scribbling unceasingly into his book.

His eyes were covered by a bandage tied at the back.

Impossibly high stacks of books lined the walls on every side.

We approached the graying “man.”

Jack took his place beside his elder across from me.

I cleared my throat. “I, uh, I would like to be solid again.”

He stopped scribbling and looked up. Though he had no eyes, he stared right at me, through me. He turned his book toward me and tapped the blank page, setting a feather pen and inkwell near my hand.

“He wants a deal,” Jack explained, all too exuberantly.

“What deal?”

An image of Her appeared on the page. The woman without a face. The woman with an umbrella.

Jack continued, “Solidity for a memory. It will slowly fade without you noticing a thing.”

I realized what was going on. My memory of Her. I couldn’t live without it; I had to be wary at all times.

Yet I could do nothing to stop the Entities or the End they would bring about while it still held me back.

I signed.