The Wages of Sin

Loki is out of your league.

STALE meat!

You were a FLOP!

I don’t want to see you get slaughtered.

You’re a SHADOW of your former self!

The voices swam through my mind.

I could take no more.

I broke.

I brought down the kendo stick.

CRACK.

And then I saw the broken woman lying before me.

.

..

…

Fuck.

===

I don’t know precisely how long I sat in the hallway of the Mercedes-Benz arena. I wasn’t even entirely sure why I was so paralyzed. But there I sat, the words that had been thrown at me echoing through my mind.

Was it true?

Was I really, truly, so outmatched?

I couldn’t be; I had been a contender for the World Title not four months back.

Ah, came a voice within my mind, but you LOST. Gordy King reclaimed what was his, and you fell back into the shadows once again. One more humiliation at the hands of the Peacock King, and all your ambitions… gone. Dust in the bloody wind.

.

..

…

How did this happen?

There was a time when I was talked about as one of the rising stars of CWF – for a time, the rising star. I had been the Impact Champion, one half of the most dominant tag team of the era – of all CWF’s history until Caledonia and Eris took that crown a few years later.

Caledonia… my cousin.

She had thoroughly eclipsed me.

It didn’t really make sense that the two of us never seemed to be successful at the same time – for that matter, until her lunkhead of a husband had jumped ship to HVW, none of the three of us seemed to be successful at the same time. It was like there was only so much juice available for our family, and…

… and there simply wasn’t any for me. Not anymore.

I took a deep breath, marshalling my discipline to hold the damn line and keep my emotions together. Stiff upper lip and all that.

… God I need a drink.

‘Carlton?’ came a voice behind me. I jumped a little in surprise, wheeling around and nearly toppling over – which from a seated position was particularly embarrassing. As I turned I saw Eris, Caledonia’s friend and the resident agent of chaos. ‘Are you… crying?’ they asked with a smirk.

Eris had never been fond of me.

‘No! I…’

‘Oh my goddess,’ they said, their grin widening, ‘you actually are crying.’

‘I’m not!’

‘Jesus, Carlton, did hitting Mia really hurt you that much? You know you’re going to have to do that in order to fight her, right?’

‘It’s not that, it’s…’ I trailed off. ‘Forget it.’

Eris rolled their eyes. ‘Whatever.’

They walked off. Involuntarily, I sighed. It… was a sadder sigh than I would care to admit, and sadder than I intended. And yet.

Eris stopped, and I saw them take a deep breath. Then another, as if willing themself up, they turned back around. ‘Come on,’ they said.

‘What?’

‘You look so absolutely pathetic,’ they said. ‘Even if you are a filthy Tory I can’t just leave you there looking that dejected. Let’s go find some wine.’

My eye twitched at the political dig. I swallowed my retort and settled for ‘Wine? In Germany?’

They smirked. ‘What? You’re not too good for beer?’

‘German beer,’ I said. ‘I am too good for that weak, near-frozen gnat’s urine that the Americans call beer – and so are you.’

They winced. ‘Dammit, you got me there. Alright. Let’s see if we can find a pub.’

===

‘So,’ said Eris, bearing two large steins of Augustiner and setting them on the table before us, ‘what’s up your arse?’

I grabbed the stein appreciatively and drank a solid couple inches of it – barely repressing a belch – before answering. ‘You know, I really wish I could put it succinctly…’

‘I rEaLLy WiSH i cOulD puT IT SucCinCTly,’ said Eris in an exaggeratedly posh accent. I glowered at them. ‘Sorry,’ they said. ‘Take alllll the time you need.’

I looked around the room. We were in a small little Eckkneipe, a traditional German corner pub. The wood-paneled walls were hung with plates and paintings and other such kitsch, which in any other nation I would have assumed was fakery designed to signal ‘German-ness’; here, it was probably just the owner’s family heirlooms. It was basically empty but for an older couple sitting at the bar and smoking – I genuinely couldn’t tell if they were the owners or just very comfortable patrons.

I looked back at my beer – a rather excellent brew, it had to be said – took another hearty draft, and spoke. ‘Eris, tell me true – did I get in over my head, challenging Loki – or Mia, or Amelia, or whoever they bloody are?’

They raised their eyebrows. ‘I mean…’ they said, ‘I assumed that you had some idea of what they were capable of when you threw out the challenge…’

‘I just couldn’t stand to hear it,’ I said, taking a sip of my beer – the time for chugging had passed. ‘She was out there pissing and moaning about not getting her shot, when she was running this place a few months ago. When I’ve had one shot at the top since coming back, and that only by…’

‘Selling your soul to the she-devil herself?’ Eris supplied helpfully. I nodded. ‘Yeah. You said as much,’ they said. ‘Why her, though? Why not go after Ripper? God knows he’s been complaining almost as much. And after all, he has what you apparently want.’

I took somewhat more hearty of a gulp from my beer. ‘Because,’ I said, almost spitting, ‘my sainted cousin got to him first.’

‘Ahhh,’ they said knowingly. But rather than elaborate, they just looked at me, evaluating. I glowered again. They chuckled and continued. ‘This is about you feeling like the least of the Three.’

‘The Three?’

‘The three Highlanders,’ they said.

‘I am not a - ’ I sputtered indignantly.

They held up a hand. ‘I mean, the three of you are a close-knit family – don’t deny it, you are! – and of the three of you…’

They didn’t finish. I could tell that they were waiting for me to say it out loud. I sighed. ‘I’m far and away the least successful,’ I said heavily.

‘Yup,’ said Eris, taking an impressively large gulp of their own beer.

I slumped in my chair. ‘I don’t get it,’ I said. ‘I’m at least as proficient a fighter as the two of them, I train hard… God bloody knows I’ve taken my licks.’

‘Have you, though?’ asked Eris.

‘What do you mean?’

Eris looked squarely at me. ‘What’s the toughest match you’ve ever been in?’

‘… I’ve had some pretty intensive tag battles…’

They snorted. ‘Dan fought his own tag team partner – a guy who was waging all-out psychological warfare on him – in a match that was invented specifically for their feud. Ever hear of the Bloodbath match?’ I shook my head. ‘You have to make your opponent bleed before you can win conventionally. It was absolutely brutal. Dan won, but barely. And then he took down Jarvis King – another laurel that eluded you. And only after a long war against an old friend – again, waging psychological warfare and costing him his Paramount Title - did he finally get his shot at the top.’

I was silent. ‘Caledonia,’ they continued, ‘not only fought a veritable army of Institute goons – an action that got one of her friends killed – but went through possibly the most brutal match stipulation this federation has ever devised, the Higher, Wire, Fire. And you’ve seen the shit these people come up with; that’s not a claim made lightly. And she won. Against some of the best fighters in CWF. It was that that made MJ Flair take notice of her – the world champion, choosing the person she thought was the best, the person she respected most.’ They looked squarely at me. ‘So be real with yourself, Carlton. What, precisely, have you done to earn your shot?’

.

..

…

Fuck.

‘I thought so,’ they said, leaning back and taking a victorious sip. Their beer was nearly empty. Mine still had about two inches; I grabbed it and sucked down the remainder, then wordlessly swept off to the bar and bought two more steins.

Eris and I drank in silence for a while, their words echoing in my mind.

I could barely bring myself to admit it…

No! It’s not like I’ve not faced brutality! I was a soldier! I’ve killed! I’ve had comrades die in my arms!

And what part of that took place in the wrestling ring, Mark? You know, where it counts for what you’re pissing and moaning about?

The silence lingered a few more minutes. Eventually I spoke. ‘What happened to me?’ I said. ‘I used to be… I used to be better.’

‘Karma?’ said Eris.

‘Look, I realize that I used to be an absolute degenerate, but -’

‘Wait, degenerate?’ they asked. ‘I was talking about you being a Conservative. You were a degenerate?’

I looked at them. ‘You had every feud my lunkhead cousin-in-law ever fought memorized, but you don’t know the circumstances under which I became a wrestler?’

‘No, but… in my defence I really don’t care about you,’ said Eris, taking another sip of beer and smirking.

I made to retort, but thought better of it. ‘Let’s just say… I have made a great many decisions that I deeply regret, mostly brought on by relentless pursuit of the fairer sex.’

‘Oh right, you were a sex pest!’ said Eris with delight. ‘Cali did mention something about finding you passed out naked with your dick stuck in the couch…’

‘That was one time! … and besides, it was an inside-out latex glove wedged in a couch.’

They chuckled. ‘Seriously, how is it that you’re so fucking stiff now?’

‘I found purpose,’ I said. ‘I found the Order of the Oncoming Storm.’

They rolled their eyes. ‘The Order,’ they said scornfully. ‘You’re really that comfortable working for the bad guys?’

‘They want to prevent -’

‘To prevent the terrible future the Institute were going to bring about, yes,’ they said impatiently. ‘Did it not occur to you that maybe there were people who didn’t want to crush the entire world under their jackboots that could also stop the Institute? You know, people like your cousin?’

‘Yeah, well, joining up with you lot wouldn’t let me redeem myself in the eyes of my father,’ I snapped.

The silence was akin to that after a gunshot.

‘Well then,’ said Eris, ‘that explains that.’

‘I didn’t… I’m not…’

‘Not what? Just another fucking rich white boy dealing with daddy issues?’ said Eris sharply.

‘I’m not!’ I exclaimed.

‘You fucking said it!’ they said loudly enough that the smoking couple at the bar looked over at us, glaring. Eris looked slightly embarrassed. ‘You fucking said it,’ they hissed. ‘Don’t deny it, Carlton, all this – ’ they waved up and down at my well-tailored suit ‘ – is so that Daddy will love you!’

‘My father -’

‘Is a prick that you’re better off without,’ they said; then, at my rising anger, ‘but of course, you feel differently about that. Look,’ they continued, ‘have you ever thought that maybe there’s more to life than being accepted by your uptight relatives?’

‘Nothing is more important than family,’ I said firmly.

‘Family,’ they said in an equally firm tone, ‘is whatever you decide it is, Mark. It’s more than just blood and fucking DNA. For fuck’s sake, look at me. You know when the last time I saw someone related to me by blood was?’ I shook my head. They continued. ‘It was when they slammed the door in my fucking face after I came out as nonbinary. So don’t fucking lecture me about family.’

Both of us drank our beers in silence for a few minutes. Eventually we were each done. ‘Another round?’ I asked.

Eris sighed. ‘I really don’t know why I’m hanging out with you, Carlton.’

‘You feel sorry for me?’

‘No…’ they sighed. ‘But… well… in a way you’re family.’

I was nonplussed. ‘How so?’

‘Family’s what you decide it is,’ they said, ‘and it’s transitive. Caledonia is my family, and you’re hers. By the transitive property…’

I nodded. ‘I’ll get this round.’

‘Innit my turn?’

‘I… feel like you’ve earned a break in the rounds,’ I said. ‘I’ve got it.’  

I picked up the third round and settled down. ‘It… it would be excessively cheesy to toast to family, wouldn’t it?’ I asked.

Eris smirked. ‘Probably.’

‘Fuck it. To family,’ I said, clinking my stein to theirs, ‘whatever that means.’

‘Whatever that means,’ said Eris.

We drank silently. After a while, Eris spoke. ‘So. Latex glove?’

‘I was sixteen!’

‘Still. To go from that to – ’ once again, they gesticulated towards me. ‘And besides, I’ve heard more stories than just that.’

‘I did not have my life together for some time,’ I said.

‘And yet that was when you were doing well in wrestling,’ said Eris.

Huh.

Wasn’t expecting that.

… I suppose the argument was consistent, even as I scrambled for reasons to disprove Eris’ claim. Ever since I had signed up with the Order, I had won a grand total of three matches – two of them tag team matches, neither of them against anyone remotely in my league. I mean, the bloody Andersons…

And then there was the End Games match, where my team had stood victorious against Mia’s Major Arcana… the finish of which I had been nowhere near.

No! Correlation was not causation, I knew that! Just because I won more in my degenerate days didn’t mean that my degeneracy caused my victory!

… or did it?

The thought didn’t let go even as beer number three became four, and then five.

‘I tell you what it is,’ I slurred. ‘It’s that Ameliki – I mean, Cheshynn – I mean… oh, you know who I bloody mean…’

‘I don’t,’ giggled Eris. ‘You wanna try again there?’

‘You know – what’s-er-name,’ I said. ‘Mia. Loki. Wha’ever.’

‘There ye go,’ Eris said with a snort.

‘She’s had her bloody time at the top,’ I said.

‘Bullshit,’ said Eris.

‘What?’ I said.

‘You got your shot,’ they said, slurring. ‘So I shay bullshit. That’sh not why you went after someone who’s several classes above you, Marky Mark.’

‘Then why did I, if you’re so wiiiiise?’

Eris jabbed a finger into my chest. ‘Because yoooou want to know if the old Mark Carlton – the Fearless Atla -’

‘I… don’t use that nickname anymore.’

‘The INTERNET never forgets!’ said Eris smugly. ‘But wha’ever. You want to know if you’ve still got it. And – I gotta tell ya, ya don’t. Not like this.’ Once again, they gestured at my suit.

‘What, precisely, is so wrong with dressing smartly?’ I said.

‘Nought,’ they replied, ‘but the shuit’s just the shymptom. Ya gotta… ya gotta take the fucking stick out yer arse, be a bit of a degenerate, y’know?’

‘I refuse to believe,’ I said, ‘that that’sh the solution.’

Eris shrugged. ‘Believe it or not, Carly. It’s the sholid, unvarnished truth. You wanna beat Loki… you gotta…’

They trailed off. I listened, trying to see if they were just passing out drunk or actually thinking. It turned out to be the latter. ‘Look,’ they said, suddenly serious, ‘I know I’m gonna regret this, but… can you be in York tomorrow night?’ 

At the back of my mind, a double entendre tried desperately to form, but some deeper instinct shut it down. ‘I think so.’

‘Then,’ said Eris, ‘I am gonna go to bed. Got things to arrange.’ They rose from their chair and promptly fell back down onto it. ‘In… a few minutes.’

‘… I’ll call us a taxi.’

===

It was with some trepidation, and with a not inconsiderable hangover, that I took the cab to the address in York that Eris had directed me to. I found only a set of stairs, leading down to an unembellished black oak door with red roses painted around the frame and a brass plaque above. There were also words painted over the door itself, but I couldn’t read them until I got closer.

And then I did.

Well.

That explained Eris’ reluctance, particularly if they meant what they said about not liking me much.

THE GROTTO.

I read the brass plaque aloud. ‘Stab your demonical smile to my brain, soak me in cognac, cunt and cocaine… how charming.’

‘If that’s the most offensive thing you encounter tonight,’ came Eris’ voice from the top of the stairs, ‘then this will be the lamest Grotto excursion I’ve ever done.’

I smirked. ‘Surprised you trust me enough for this.’

‘Look,’ they said, ‘I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have reservations, but what I saw last night…’ They shook their head. ‘Let’s get inside, I think it’s about to rain.’

We opened the door and stepped inside. It was a surprisingly tasteful corridor, if a little cluttered. There were paintings in a variety of artistic styles, along with some antiques that looked to be handcrafted in a more civilized age.

I had, in fact, been to this place before… three hundred years in the future. Somehow, I imagined that it looked a little different now; in the future it was a hub of the resistance, a fragmented shell of a place. Only the room and the little brass plaque remained. 

At the end of the corridor, there were three doors. On the right-hand door, a rough sketch, in what was either red ink or blood, of a shattered human face. By the left-hand door, a statue of the Roman god Cupid – that or Eros, his Greek counterpart.

Caledonia had told me a little of what lay beyond those doors. To the left, Sex – a room of uninhibited carnal desire, where no request was too taboo, save a lack of consent. To the right, Violence – a sanctuary for those furious at the world or at another person or at themselves, a place where their rage could fly free. She had trained in Violence a couple of times… but that was all she had said. Save that the Grotto was a place to remove one’s own mental blocks.

… I began to suspect why Eris had brought me here.

I briefly wondered whether their plan was Sex or Violence as we went through the center door. The last time I had seen this room it had been a hub of the AI deity Discordia, filled with computer gear and set up as an emergency shelter. Now…

The room was shaped like a great horseshoe, with two concave glass walls around the edge, meeting in the middle. To the left, the blue-lit domain of Sex; to the right, red-tinted Violence. Around this room were scattered plush couches, facing the other two rooms; for those who wanted to watch, or to prepare. I briefly wondered if this room was known as Voyeurism as Eris and I went to the center bar. I was staggered by the sheer variety of the alcohol – there were bottles of high-end whiskey that looked older than me, stacked right alongside something called Jumbo Jim’s Grape Scotch.

Eris whispered something to the bartender, and we headed over to one of the couches, a plush velvet chaise-longue near the center of the room. I had to crane my neck to see either of the two rooms; I wondered what Eris was planning.

At least part of my plan was answered when the bartender came over a few minutes later, bearing a volumetric flask and a green liquid that could only be absinthe. Perhaps surprisingly, I had never had absinthe before; but I knew enough about it not to question the ornate slotted spoon that accompanied the flask, nor the elaborate process by which Eris prepared the drink – soaking a sugar cube in the absinthe, then setting it on fire, letting it burn out, and ultimately depositing it in the drink. The two of us wordlessly clinked glasses, and I took a sip. It burned, far more than even I, a seasoned drinker, was used to. But it felt good, the residual heat of the burning sugar combining with the strength of the alcohol. The two of us each finished our round. ‘Another?’ asked Eris.

‘Please,’ I replied. They nodded and prepared it. I drank the next a little slower, and found that I enjoyed it even more.

‘So,’ I said.

‘So.’

I waited for them to explain their plan. They didn’t, instead choosing to lounge back resplendently with their absinthe. Another round passed, and still nothing. I cleared my throat.

‘Feeling that absinthe burn?’ they asked with a smirk.

‘No,’ I said pointedly, ‘I’m waiting for you to tell me whether you plan on sending me into Sex or Violence?’

‘Who says we’re not just here for a nice drink?’  they said. As they did, a heavyset man crashed into the apparently very durable Violence window nearest to us, as a young woman drove him back with a flying kick, following up with repeated stomps. She was clearly screaming, but her words were inaudible behind the thick glass.

‘Right,’ I said, ‘because there’s no way we could have had a nice drink in London, where our next show is and where I live.’

‘I live in York,’ they said, sticking their tongue out, ‘and this is my favorite establishment.’

I grumbled. They chuckled. ‘But you’re right,’ they said. ‘I have a plan. A plan to get you in touch with your inner degenerate.’

Sex, then.

… is Eris hitting on me?

I made to rise. ‘The fuck are you going?’ asked Eris.

‘By “inner degenerate” I assume you mean the sex pest I used to be. Which implies you want me to go get my rocks off with – ’ I looked into the Sex window and promptly saw a man being pegged by a woman old enough to be his mother.

… hopefully not actually his mother, I mean, I understand a lack of taboo, but…

Eris chuckled. ‘Perhaps. But it’s not what’s first.’

‘Oh? Then what is?’

‘This,’ they said, pulling a Ziploc bag containing a single white pill from their pocket.

‘… okay, I’m pretty sure I remember my health teacher saying something about this specific scenario…’

Eris rolled their eyes. ‘I’m not overfond of you, Carlton, but I don’t have any intention of hurting you. This isn’t addictive and it doesn’t have any adverse effects… if it’s not overused. Made it special for you.’

I furrowed my brow. ‘Seriously? You think I’ll -’

‘Take it, Carlton. You want to beat whichever member of the Menagerie shows up? I’ve got a feeling this is how. Because I’ll tell you, I don’t think you stand a chance otherwise. And if I’m wrong… well, you’ll have plenty of time to recover.’

‘Not reassuring.’

‘Do it and I’ll not say a bad word about the Tories for the rest of the year,’ they said firmly.

I sighed. ‘Deal.’

‘Infrontofyou…’ they muttered under their breath.

I rolled my eyes. ‘Fine. Give me the thing.’

They did. I took it. And –

===

I awakened in what looked like my parents’ drawing room, save that everything in it was about twice as big as I remembered. I looked around, momentarily disoriented, and then looked down…

… to see my bright blue shoes, decorated with exuberant red racing cars.

I remembered those shoes; they had been my favorites when I was nine. I had cried when my mother had insisted on throwing them out; they had had numerous rips and you could see through the soles in some places, but I had loved them regardless. My father hadn’t tolerated my tears, though; such things were not becoming of a Carlton, certainly not one who was nine.  

Okay. So. Eris’ drug had sent me back in time?

I was going to say “impossible,” but… well, I had been forward in time…

A vision? That would make more sense… and I remembered something else, something that had happened to Rishel eight years ago…

But my thoughts were cut off by my mother – thirty years younger – bustling into the room. ‘Mark,’ she chided, ‘why are you just standing around like that, we’ll be leaving any minute!’

‘Leaving?’ I said in a much higher-pitched voice than I was used to.

She shook her head. ‘I swear, you’d forget your head if it weren’t bolted on! We’re going to visit Uncle Charles and Aunt Patricia and cousin Caledonia. Don’t you remember?’

I did, now she mentioned it. This was the summer we had gone for an extended visit. It was when Caledonia and I had become close; they didn’t live far away, but it was far enough to preclude casual visits.

And, of course, we didn’t just “pop by”. That was unbecoming.

The car ride was terse; just as I remembered. Good to know I hadn’t just been imagining that. Mercifully, it was also comparatively short; a mere half-hour. We pulled up the driveway, and my door was barely open before Caledonia crashed into me, throwing her arms around me. I was knocked off balance; she couldn’t have weighed more than forty pounds, but then I was barely over sixty or so myself…

Off to the side I saw my mother embrace my aunt, and my father greet my uncle with a firm handshake. Of course, I had the context now to know that the two of them were old friends from the Order, brothers in arms as much as they were brothers in law. But I hadn’t known that then.

‘Come on, Mark, let’s go explore!’ said Caledonia excitedly. It was strange, hearing her voice that high pitched. On instinct, I looked to my mother for permission – she nodded. Caledonia grabbed me by the hand and we sprinted off into the grounds. I knew already where we were headed; the little dell with the blue bench that we’d sat on together not so very long ago. Indeed, there was the bench – its paint looked a bit brighter now than the last time I’d seen it! We sat down, a little out of breath. After a few minutes, she spoke.

‘Well, I’m hoping that this isn’t where the degeneracy kicks in, because if so I have serious concerns…’

‘Erm… what?’

‘Come now, Mark, you know we’re not actually children anymore. You’re forty, I’m thirty-seven, and you picked a stupid fight against a stupendous badass and somehow convinced Eris to help you deal with it.’

It was strange, hearing a prim-and-proper six-year-old girl say “stupendous badass.”

‘Right,’ I said tersely. ‘So, why am I here?’

Caledonia shrugged. ‘It’s your subconscious, Mark, you tell me.’

I leaned back. ‘You know… Eris was kind of vague on the directions.’

‘Well, presumably you have some shit to work through,’ she said. Super disconcerting to hear six-year-old Caledonia swearing.

‘But why here, then?’

She shrugged again. ‘Well… I seem to remember allusions to “my sainted cousin”, so perhaps we’re just gonna get to the heart of your jealousy of me?’

‘I’m not -’

‘Be careful what you say here, Mark,’ she said, suddenly serious. She looked around. ‘Mark… are you familiar with Carl Jung?’

‘Only inasmuch as I know he’s a psychologist.’

‘Well,’ she said, ‘as I have a doctorate in psychology, I can tell you that he had a theory of -’

Suddenly I heard my mother calling out for us. Caledonia looked at me. ‘I think I know why Eris is doing this, Mark. You need to take off your -’

The world whirled before she could finish her sentence; frankly, I wasn’t unhappy to not hear what precisely my cousin thought I should take off. Particularly when she looked like a child. But still, it was rather unpleasant to be pulled through space and time…

… but not as unpleasant as the place I had been pulled to.

Don’t get me wrong, it didn’t feel bad to be midway through a fuck… what was going to be very unpleasant was what I knew came next.

‘Why’d you stop?’ gasped Mary as she writhed beneath me. ‘I’m so close!’

I leapt backwards and started pulling on my clothes. ‘Oh, don’t be like that,’ she said. ‘We’re inside your mind, Mark, if you will it my father can be deployed to the Greenland station rather than coming down the hall.’

‘He is coming down the hall,’ I snarled, ‘and that particular fact is going to damn near ruin my life!’

‘Is he?’ she crooned. ‘I don’t hear him… and this time I’m not distracted.’

I stopped midway through buttoning my shirt, and… huh. She was right. I didn’t hear Admiral Spencer – Captain Spencer, at this point in the timeline – anywhere. The corridors of HMS Defiant weren’t exactly great at concealing incoming footsteps… or moans of pleasure.

‘See?’ said Mary. ‘Nowhere to be found. You can indulge all that you want, Mark. Take off your damn trousers and get in here.’

‘I should never have… it wasn’t right!’

‘What,’ she said, arching her back, ‘is so wrong with two young people having some fun and enjoying each other’s bodies? You’re human, Mark, and so am I.’

‘Your father trusted me,’ I said, folding my arms. ‘This was a betrayal.’

‘I’m not my father’s fucking property, Mark!’

‘I didn’t say you were…’

‘Well, your regrets aren’t about leaving me alone to face the cold shoulder of The Admiral,’ she said, a hint of acid entering her voice, ‘they’re about betraying him. And of course, the costs that you paid.’

‘They were considerable,’ I said, a little hurt.

‘He still went on about it after more than a decade, Mark,’ she said. ‘It fucking sucked. Only reason he stopped was because you proved yourself useful in the Order.’

I frowned. ‘He said I was useful?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Wow, was that the wrong thing to take away…’

‘I’m sorry, I just… see, this is why I don’t want to go back! I was a bad fucking person back in those days – ’

‘Seems to me you’re still not a great person,’ she said.

‘You know what I mean!’ I said. ‘I was reckless. I didn’t think before I acted, I just took what I wanted without regards to the consequences.’

‘And challenging Loki Synn, that wasn’t reckless? Picking a fight with one of the most decorated fighters in CWF’s history? Someone so unstable that even she doesn’t always know what she’ll do next? Who even beat your “sainted cousin”? Seems to me you’re still acting without regards to the consequences, babycakes.’

‘That’s different!’

‘How, precisely?’

‘Because…’ I couldn’t answer.

‘Then why,’ she said, spreading her legs, ‘won’t you come back here and fuck me? Why won’t you take what you know you want, Mark?’

‘Because I don’t want it! That’s not me!’

Her eyes glowed yellow. ‘Wrong answer,’ she said in a deep, growling voice. And just as abruptly as before, I was whisked out of time and space.

I arrived, disoriented, in a vast open space, with the unmistakable roar of a crowd. My disorientation was particularly ill-timed, as a very large fist crashed into the side of my face; I was somewhat surprised to find the blow cushioned by the mask I was now wearing, covering the top-left quarter of my head.

I turned to face my attacker, and found Alex bloody Cain bearing down on me, still a massive a figure as any. I ducked under his subsequent haymaker and sent him reeling with a jab of my own. He staggered back to the other side of the ring and slapped hands with the Blue Scorpion. I turned around and saw Colton Mace, the other half of Jarvis King’s Entourage, looking intently at me. Mace nodded and gestured towards the Scorpion, who charged at me with a clothesline; I ducked underneath his overextended attack, kneed him in the back, and locked in my submission finisher, the Gentlemen’s Agreement – I hadn’t used the kata-hajime in ages, not since Caledonia had made it so inextricably related to her, but I really should start again – and dragged the Blue Scorpion to the mat. Cain charged in to break up the hold, but Mace intercepted him; the submission came shortly after. The world blurred and dissolved, but I didn’t feel the horrific yanking that I had before. Perhaps this was too short of a jump, for when my vision returned, Mace and I were sitting at a high-top table in a bar, a Manhattan in front of each of us.

‘So,’ said Mace, ‘who’s your target tonight?’

Ugh. I actually used to talk like that. ‘Well, seeing as I’m pretty sure I’m not actually here, no-one.’

‘C’mon, dude, don’t be like that,’ he said. ‘If you’re not actually here, then all the more reason to pick a target, you can’t bomb out if it’s inside your own mind! Look – ’ he said, gesturing towards the entrance, ‘isn’t that Abigail Starr? C’mon, I know you wanted to hit that.’

‘I did.’

‘And?’

‘And I don’t want to anymore!’

‘What? She’s not hot enough for you anymore?’ he said with a sly grin. ‘Well… check out the rack on that bartender – hey, didn’t you hook up with her the first time around?’

I sighed. ‘So this whole thing is an exercise in trying to get me to be the sex pest I was born to be, is that it?’

Mace leaned back and sipped his drink. ‘Eh, if the shoe fits, why not?’

‘Because there’s more to life than -’

‘Ugh, “there’s more to life” – dude! We beat two of the biggest badasses in CWF’s history! We took down Alex fucking Cain – hell, you made a future World Champion tap out! When’s the last time you did anything remotely that cool? I’m telling you, dude, if you’re gonna get the job done against Loki or whichever persona you end up in the ring with, you’ve gotta get this fucking stick out your ass!’

‘I seem to remember you calling me an uptight prick even back in 2010, Mace.’

He shrugged. ‘Meh. So you’ve always been an asshole. At least you didn’t hide who you were! Think about your inner dialogue back then! You know full well that you were ogling Abigail’s tits. And you’re lying to yourself if you pretend you aren’t trying desperately not to ogle them now.’

At the bar, in a marked turn from how the interaction had actually gone, Abigail turned to us and said, with a wink, ‘You know he’s right.’ She pushed her bosoms together, bending down slightly, and blew a kiss before turning to the bar.

‘See?’ said Mace. ‘We’re inside your head, Mark, that’s what you want an interaction with her to be like.’

‘I can’t say I agree with that,’ I said. ‘Look, Mace…’

‘Save it, dude, you’re only lying to yourself if you lie to me.’

‘But I’m not! That’s not me!’

Mace’s eyes flashed bright yellow. ‘Oh, when will you learn?’ he growled in a deep voice; and I once again felt myself grabbed through the torso and yanked out of time.

I found myself at yet another party, but this one less obnoxious dubstep and more light jazz. Shaking off my momentary disorientation, I looked down and saw myself in a tuxedo. I was holding a martini, which I was surprised not to have spilled. After a moment, I recognized my surroundings – I was inside a major Spirit Science Research Institute facility, the House of the Will. Jaiden Rishel and I had been tasked by the Order to infiltrate it, under the guise of attending the ongoing soiree; our objective, to exfiltrate Henry Benson, a leader of the Institute who had been displaced by the Moonchild Elisha. The Order’s leadership had intended to reinstall Benson at the top of the hierarchy, acting as their puppet.

But I was snapped out of my contemplation by Jaiden approaching. ‘Well, Carlton?’ he said. ‘We doing this or what?’

I looked around. The mission, when we had last been here eight years ago, had carried us into the vast lower levels of the House of the Will; Jaiden had taken a minor gunshot wound, but we had been successful.

‘Or,’ he said, ‘maybe you’d like to blow it off? I mean, really truly, what does it matter? It’s not like Spencer respected you any more after this. Not even really like your dear old dad liked you any more than he did before.’

‘Shut up,’ I snapped.

‘Hey man,’ he said, holding up his hands, ‘you wanna talk about complicated relationships with one’s father…’ He pointed to himself. ‘I fucking get it.’

I sighed. ‘I want to get to whatever the point of all this is.’

Jaiden chuckled. ‘You ever think about maybe engaging with the material?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Look, you’ve clearly got something going on. I mean, if nothing else, look at what’s going on with your face.’

I touched my face – the hard mask that had protected me from Cain’s punch was now covering more of my features than it had been. Nearly half my face was now obscured. But if anyone at the party noticed it, they didn’t say anything.

‘You maybe wonder what that’s about, Mark?’ asked Jaiden.

‘Naturally.’

‘Well, let’s think about where you just came from versus now,’ he said, putting on an exaggerated show of thinking. ‘You didn’t hide who you were, and you beat Alex fucking Cain at his peak. Now that you’ve got this going on – ’ he poked at my mask, ‘- now that you’ve found your sacred fucking purpose… remind me how the rest of this little adventure went?’

‘You got shot. I got you and Benson out. And…’

‘And?’ pressed Jaiden.

I sighed. ‘And ultimately, the mission was a failure. Caledonia managed to stop the Order from capturing Elisha, and… and Benson killed himself a week later.’

‘Indeed,’ said Jaiden. ‘So, I ask you: if you’re going to take on one of CWF’s greatest fighters – or potentially like four of them, depending on how Mia’s persona thing works – which version of you do you need?’

‘Irrelevant!’ I yelled. ‘What does drinking myself into a stupor and hitting on everything with a pair of tits do to actually help me win?!’

Jaiden sighed. ‘Wow, you really don’t get it, do you?’

‘Explain it to me, then,’ I spat.

‘That would seem to defeat the purpose of the exercise.’

‘For fuck’s sake,’ I snarled. ‘I get it. Eris wants me to “let go”, to revert back to the degenerate I was. But I’m better than that now! I’m a better person than I was. That’s not me anymore!’

Jaiden rolled his eyes before they flashed the same bright yellow as before. ‘Ah well. Worth a shot. See ya.’

And I felt the now-familiar feeling of being removed.

Perhaps I was simply getting more used to it, but the jump didn’t feel as harsh this time.

Regardless, I felt an abrupt change in temperature, as the air suddenly felt much colder and much damper.

‘Well, there you are,’ said a voice that sounded familiar but that I couldn’t place. I turned around and rolled my eyes.

‘And with most of your face covered,’ said Count Binface. ‘I ought to sue for gimmick infringement.’

‘Right,’ I said, ‘so we’re at the by-election. At least you won’t be encouraging me to hit on women, not unless you really think that McGowan’s my type.’

Binface laughed. ‘No, Mark, I know that would be futile. But I’d encourage you to really sit with why this keeps happening to you.’

I thought. ‘I keep saying that I’m not that person anymore.’ I braced, waiting to see if that was enough for the shift. ‘And… well…’

‘You’re not?’ supplied Binface helpfully.

‘You said it, not me,’ I said.

‘Well, if I’m not meant to get you to loosen up a bit,’ he said, ‘then why do you think you’re here?’

‘I’m sure there’s some metaphorical significance,’ I said.

‘Well, what was the significance of this?’ he asked.

I looked around. ‘Well… I had finally made it. I had won the by-election. I was set to become a Member of Parliament; and…’

‘And possibly the next leader of the Conservative Party, the state that lot are in,’ he said.

‘Right!’ I exclaimed. ‘And no way would I have been able to do that if I were still the old Carlton. I started taking life seriously, I didn’t go on benders and have indiscriminate sex and wake up half-dead on my bloody sofa! And I succeeded.’

‘At this,’ he said. ‘At the part of the world that requires you to put on the sober, dignified face of Mark Carlton, politico. But that didn’t go so well for you, did it?’

‘Getting pulled three hundred years into the future is not a moral failure!’ I yelled. ‘It’s not my fault that it didn’t work out!’

‘So it’s my fault, that’s what you’re saying?’ came a voice behind me. The world dissolved, and I was back in the House of the Will, but this time in the vast, cavernous Pit beneath it. The place that I had been brought to the future. The man I had only ever known as Winston stood across from me, two gaping wounds on his neck.

The wounds that had killed him.

The wounds I had inflicted.

‘Look, your timing was less than optimal,’ I said.

‘My apologies,’ he said sarcastically. ‘In retrospect, my mission to save the leader of the Order really could have waited.’

‘He’s got a point, Mark,’ said another voice behind me. I turned to face Dan Urquhart, the man who had led the assault on the Amoralist stronghold in London. The man who I had followed until the bitter end.

The man who had been consumed by the madness of the Tormented Soul and crowned himself king.

The man whose crown…

… the man whose crown I had taken up.

Urquhart continued. ‘You know, I get the urgency of the matter, but couldn’t you have waited a few minutes after I died before just declaring yourself king? Seems opportunistic.’

‘We didn’t have a few minutes!’ I exclaimed. ‘The Children and the Albionites were about to start tearing each other to shreds! I needed to act!’

‘And so you did,’ he said. ‘You acted without fully thinking through the consequences. You saw something you wanted and you took it. Sound familiar?’

‘It was for the greater good!’

‘Bullshit,’ he said. ‘Don’t lie. You wanted it. Deep in your heart.’

‘There needed to be a monarch to make the peace work.’

‘Then why not offer the crown to Caledonia? She would have been far more acceptable to the Children.’

‘Because, I… ’ Huh. No good answer for that.

‘Because you wanted it,’ he said firmly. ‘And look what happened! You let go of this dignified, for-the-greater-good façade and took what you wanted and didn’t it feel fucking amazing?’

I said nothing.

‘Told you he’d need to go all the way to the end,’ said Winston, sidling up. ‘Good to see you again, my Lord.’

‘It’s “your Majesty” now,’ said Urquhart with a chuckle. ‘Well. In any case, Mark. We’re near the end of the line. Best be along, unless you’d care to acknowledge yourself now?’

‘… what?’

Urquhart shrugged. ‘That’s what I thought. Well. Good luck with what’s next.’

I felt myself be transported through space and time again. I came to in front of a door… a door I recognized all too well.

The door to the throne room of Buckingham Palace.

Wondering with dread what laid beyond, I opened the door. And I saw…

… me.

The other me was sitting – lounging – on the throne. He wore an ornate crown atop his head; the CWF World Championship was draped carelessly over his shoulder. Angelica lay across the base of the throne, resplendent, naked, a tremendous grin on her face.

And scattered about the foot of the throne were the fallen bodies of the Menagerie, along with the rest of the Major Arcana, Primrose and Owens and Silas and Ripper.

‘This,’ growled the other Carlton, and I saw for the first time that his eyes were glowing the same bright yellow I’d been seeing in the other visions, ‘is what could have been, if you just had the fucking Will to bring it about. But you don’t. Because you won’t acknowledge who you fucking are, Mark.’

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

He continued, his voice growing deeper and louder, echoing around the room. ‘You know… Amelia almost had it right when she said that you were a shadow of your former self. You’re not. I am the Shadow, the true self. I am the you that you refuse to acknowledge. I am the you that takes what should be mine. I am the you that saw this hot piece of ass offering herself to me,’ he said, grabbing at Angelica's breast, ‘and I took her, I fucked her I claimed her I made her fucking mine.’

He gestured in a sweeping motion to the fallen foes littering the floor of the throne room.

‘I am the you that saw the weaklings of the Major Arcana in my way and destroyed them,’ he roared. ‘We had the fucking strength to do it, we had the strength to wipe them the fuck out.’

He slapped the plate of the championship belt on his shoulder.

‘I am the you that crushed King and Mortimer beneath my boots. The you that broke their fucking bodies and left them shattered as I stood victorious and claimed my place at the top. I did it because I have the fucking strength to do it. But you fucking don’t. You don’t have the Will to take down Loki or Amelia or any of them. Not while you fucking deny me! Why do you deny me?!’

‘Because you’re not me!’ I yelled.

The other me sat forward, a wicked grin splitting his face. ‘Oh, I was hoping you’d say that.’

He tossed the crown and the championship belt aside and ripped his shirt clean off, revealing a lean, muscular form. His skin grew paler, and his teeth lengthened. Angelica sprung to her feet and threw her arms around his neck and stuck her tongue down his throat. ‘Go kill him,’ she purred, before exiting through a side door.

I barely had time to get into a defensive stance before the other Carlton rushed me down. His fist drove into my solar plexus, and the force of the blow knocked me back the better part of six feet. I winced and attempted to gain my feet, but he was too fast; he drove a vicious kick into my ribs. And then another. And another.

Fuck. He was so fucking strong.

… was this really what I was capable of?

I managed to roll out of the way of his next assault and sprang to my feet. He charged in again, but this time I was ready; I dodged to the side and drove my own kick into the back of his knee. He buckled, but as I was moving in to capitalize on the attack, he bared his teeth and lunged at me with his jaw gaping wide, his fangs closing in fast. As I instinctively dodged back, he raked at my face with long, claw-like fingernails…

… but I felt nothing.

Touching to my face, I realized that the mask now covered everything but my eyes. I was momentarily taken aback, but I had the wherewithal to capitalize on his failed assault; as he lunged again, I drove my knee directly into his chin. He reeled, and I pressed the attack. I tackled him to the ground and began raining down punches.

‘Good!’ he snarled. ‘That’s more fucking like it!’

‘Shut up!’ I screamed. I grabbed his throat and began to squeeze. And…

… and I felt myself getting weaker.

Like…

… like the life was being squeezed out of me.

Without thinking, I loosened my grip. I felt relief.

‘Well now, I think he’s beginning to get it,’ came a voice. I looked up and saw the people I had interacted with. 

Caledonia. Mary. Mace. Jaiden. Binface. Winston. Urquhart.

It was Binface who had spoken, and I could swear that I saw him grinning beneath that ridiculous contraption he wore on his head.

I released my grip on the other Carlton’s throat. He gasped, and I sat back. He didn’t attack, he just sat back, mirroring me.

‘Do you understand now, Mark?’ asked Jaiden.

‘Do you see what all this has been for?’ asked Mace.

I stood up. The other Carlton did the same. ‘I…’ I began. ‘I wanted to be… I just wanted to be a better person.’

‘You are,’ said Binface.

‘Do you think this degenerate could have been elected to Parliament?’ asked Urquhart, gesturing at the other Carlton.

‘Do you think Eris would have taken pity on him the way they took pity on you?’ asked Mary.

‘But everything you all said to me – everything I’ve been through just now – ’

‘Doesn’t in any way invalidate those points,’ said Winston.

‘You’re more than just this, Mark,’ said Mace, indicating the other me.

‘But you’re also more than just this,’ said Urquhart, nodding at me.

The six-year-old Caledonia came up to me, and gestured for me to kneel down. I did. She spoke. ‘You have to take off your mask, cousin.’

Unthinkingly, I touched the hard surface covering my face. I tried to remove it, but to no avail.

She shook her head. ‘Not like that. It’s not just a mask. It’s the front you put on to the world; the Persona you present to everyone because you’re ashamed of what lies beneath.’ She looked from me to the other me. ‘It’s not about degenerating. It's not about becoming a worse person. It’s about becoming whole.’

‘I…’

‘You know what you have to say,’ she said simply.

And with that, she walked back to the others. They stood watching me wordlessly.

I stood and faced the other me, looking into his bright, glowing eyes. He looked at me expectantly.

I sighed. ‘I see it now. I don’t like it, but… I can deny it no longer. You… you’re a part of me. And you always will be.’

I felt the mask loosening from my face. I reached up to remove it, and in the fraction of a second for which my vision was obscured… the other Carlton disappeared. I felt a warmth inside me, like I had felt as I had drunk the absinthe. I looked around at the others. ‘What happens now?’

‘Now,’ said Urquhart, stepping forward and clapping me on the shoulder, ‘you go back to the real world and you beat the stuffing out of the Menagerie.’

‘Now you become the fighter you were always capable of being,’ said Winston.

‘Now you go into the world and take the place you’ve earned,’ said Binface.

‘Now you find your own purpose instead of just blindly serving the Order’s,’ said Jaiden.

‘Now you stop worrying quite so much about what other people think,’ said Mary.

‘And maybe now you go and get fucking laid once in a while,’ said Mace with a grin.

 ‘Now,’ said Caledonia, ‘you stop denying a part of yourself. And maybe you find some peace.' She stepped forward, stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Good luck, cousin.’

And then the world around me began to dissolve.

===

I awoke to a background of jazz music, not excessively loud but loud enough that I wondered how on earth it hadn’t woken me. I became aware of my location; I was lying down on the chaise-longue, my head in Eris’ lap.

‘You awake?’ they asked. I nodded. ‘Thank fuck, I gotta piss like a racehorse.’ They sprinted to the restroom. I sat up, wondering how much time had passed; wondering how on earth I wasn’t hung over; wondering what the fuck just happened.

Several minutes later, Eris returned, looking deeply relieved. They sat down beside me. ‘So?’ they asked.

I looked them in the eye. ‘How on earth did you…?’

They shrugged. ‘I might have kept an instance of a 2326-era AI, capable of doing some very creative things with chemistry and magic. But you didn’t answer my question.’

‘Well, technically your question was “so?”, so…’

They punched me in the arm, but not very hard. ‘You knew what the fuck I meant.’

I took a deep breath. ‘It worked.’

‘And?’

‘And…’ I said. Hm. I didn’t actually know what to say next. I went with my first instinct. ‘And I’d rather like another drink.’

Eris grinned. ‘Well, if you’re buying…’

I approached the bar and asked for whatever absinthe we’d been drinking. The bartender asked if I planned on “louching”; I had no idea what that was, so I said no and returned to the seat with the two glasses. Eris and I wordlessly clinked and drank our absinthe. After a few not-uncomfortable minutes, they spoke.

‘Notwithstanding the rest of it… how’re you feeling about the Menagerie now?’

I leaned back and contemplated for a moment, taking another sip of the absinthe. ‘Well. If I can’t take them now… then I never could.’

‘And?’

‘And that’s okay. But I don’t think it’ll come up.’

‘Oh?’

‘I had forgotten what it was like. What it was like to not be repressing part of myself. It takes so fucking much out of you. It’s no wonder Holmes beat me all those times. Mask notwithstanding, there’s a man who accepts all of himself.’

Eris nodded. I took another sip of absinthe. ‘And of course,’ I added, ‘there’s the question of whether Mia and Loki and the rest of them accept each other.’

Eris chuckled. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

‘And that,’ I said, ‘might be the difference-maker.’

We sat a few more moments. I spoke again.‘Maybe it’s just the absinthe talking,’ I said, ‘but damn do I feel good. Better than I’ve felt in a long bloody time.’

‘Enough to say ‘bugger the lot of you’ to the Order?’ said Eris, a gleam in their eye.

‘You know…’ I said. I left the sentence hanging; that was one I was going to have to sit with.

‘I’ll take it,’ said Eris with a grin. They kissed me on the cheek and rose, gathering their things.

‘What, you’re not sticking around?’ I asked.

‘My work is done… for now,’ they said. ‘Best of luck with it all, Carlton. Be seeing you.’

I watched them leave, taking a sip of absinthe as I did.  

… that was a fuck of a trip.

Maybe it was going to be enough that I’d be able to take on the Menagerie, maybe it wouldn’t. But even if I lost… by God was it worth it.

I don’t know how long I sat there, just thinking, taking the place in. The purpose of the Grotto was to bring down barriers, Caledonia had told me. Well, it had certainly succeeded at that.

I drank the last of my absinthe and contemplated my next move.

I looked to the Grotto’s left-hand window.

And I decided to take Mace’s advice.

I had some shit to work through.