Origin (formerly Long Beach Peninsula)

May 8th, 2073

The caretaker stopped short, unable to proceed as he felt his senses fuzz over for a moment. He’d felt the presence of interloper only a moment ago but now it was gone, almost as though something was blocking it. That hadn’t happened in a while, but he knew what it meant at least. Growling his frustration he looked around the area he’d transported himself to, looking for anything out of place, or anyone that didn’t belong here, which would mean anyone.

But he was looking for someone in particular.

“Come on out already,” he said in a gruff voice, “If you want to talk, hiding isn’t the way to go.”

A light chuckle reached his ears as he spun around on one heel, lifting his other foot as he did. From behind a broken down old colonial-style home came the form of a woman he’d not seen in a long, long time. The reason for this was that she’d died in his arms many years ago. Her infectious smile, tanned skin, and long, wavy locks reminded him of that long ago day when he’d held her close and watched the life fade from her eyes. In this moment however, the sight only made him angry.

“You know, your lack of hospitality has become a thing of legend,” said the Creator, smiling up at him as the form of his sister stopped only a few yards away, “People are so fearful of this place that only the most foolish and the bravest will even dare to cross the river or the bay.”

“What do you want?” he asked in a gruff tone. It wasn’t every day he got to speak to an avatar of the only being in this or any other reality that could challenge him, but as usual it wasn’t a pleasant meeting.

“So forceful,” the Creator chided, forcing a mild pout on his sister’s features. The caretaker wanted so badly to crush this avatar as he’d done to others, but he restrained himself, for the moment.

“You remember what happened to the last form you sent my way?” the caretaker asked with a mild, sadistic grin.

The Creator nodded, “I do.” There was no concern on his sister’s stolen features, only a mild grin that told him that the Creator didn’t fear him, as always. That was fine, the caretaker didn’t give a damn if he was feared.

“You need to speak to this one,” the Creator said, the voice of his sister coming forth with all sincerity, “He’s not like the others that think of this place as a prize.”

“Then why’s he here?” the caretaker asked. He was already tired of this conversation, but he would listen simply because he had nothing better to do, other than anything.

“He’s here because I brought him here.”

The caretaker’s eyes widened in that moment, and as the Creator had known, this was the wrong thing to say.

(to be continued)

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