I emerge into consciousness like stepping out of a void - one second nothing, the next, full awareness. I'm lying on my back in an open clearing, trees stretching up overhead to all sides, late morning sun shining down through the hole in the canopy above me. White clouds drift lazily across the azure sky, and birds trill and chirp their endless greetings in a medley that's not quite cacophonous.

  It's peaceful, right up until I start remembering what happened last night. Then I begin to cry, giant, racking sobs, scaring off the birds.

  "...sniff... oh, Wires."

  His death feels like someone ripped a hole out of my chest. I try to wrap my mind around the grief, make it go away, but the wound is still too raw. Worst of all, it's my fault he's dead.

  "Gah!"

  The sudden appearance of the blue box startles me. I slap at it instinctively, but my hand passes through it without making contact.

  That's right, this stupid box was pestering me last night too... wait, is it talking to me?

  "Gah!"

  I sit up, looking around wildly, but the box continues hovering in the same spot no matter how I turn my head, right in the center of my vision. Even blinking doesn't make it go away.

  "Am... am I cursed?"

  It is talking to me!

  The essence of a sigh ghosts through my mind, a foreign emotion that somehow feels perfectly natural.

  I put my head in my hands, thoughts swimming.

  "What... are you?"

  I lift my head up and stare blankly at a tree.

  "...what?"

  "Hey," I bristle, "I'm a Memoriam! I'm going to be in charge of advising the entire village when Great Grandpa passes on!"

  "What?"

  An insectile limb, made of bone white segments and strangely fuzzy around the edges, pushes me to my feet, then retracts into my spine.

  ...wait, a what did what?!

  I start hyperventilating, patting awkwardly at my back and shoulders, but I don't feel anything out of the ordinary. My clothes aren't even torn.

  "How am I supposed to calm down! A... a thing just appeared out of me! Then it disappeared! What the fuck is happening?!"

  I'm almost crying again as I scream the last part.

  That strange calm from last night slithers through me again, and my breathing returns to normal.

  "What did you just do to me?"

  A faintly glowing green arrow appears in my vision, and I ball my fists at my sides.

  "I'm not going anywhere until you explain to me what is going on in a way I can understand!"

  "...I'm part magic space demon now?"

  The box has a point. If the choice is between being part magic space demon, and being dead, I'm happier being alive. I just wish Wires would've gotten the same opportunity.

  I sniff one last time, wiping a sleeve across my nose. I have the feeling it's going to take me a long time to get over Wires' death, but seeing the box tell me it's not my fault actually does make me feel a little better. It's clearly smarter than I am.

  Bit of a brat though. Reminds me of Bottle.

  I set off into the forest, leaving the clearing behind, following the green arrow. Some of the birds begin singing again, and I manage to find a tiny bit of joy in their melodious voices. After several minutes of listening to their calls, the box giving me some space with my thoughts, I decide to ask it a question.

  "Hey, box?"

  "Do you have a name?"

  "...okay. I'm going to call you 'Box,' then."

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  "That's a weird name, Box. Why is it so long?"

  I trail my fingers along a tree trunk, trying to process this casually dropped earth-shattering revelation. I mean, I had a sneaking suspicion that the invaders that killed Wires were human, but Box has all but confirmed it.

  "So we're not the only humans left in the world?"

  I try to imagine two hundred thousand people in one area, but I can't. That's like...

  "...thanks, Box. Why are we all alone, then?"

  "What's 'interesting times' mean?"

  I shrug in acceptance.

  "Sure."

  I interrupt, curious about something.

  "You keep writing the word 'reality' weird. Why?"

  "That's like when you try to think of the biggest number you can, and then add one more to it, and then keep doing that, only you'll never reach the end, right?"

  "We're not dumb, Box. The Memory Shrine has lots of books from the Old World."

  "...wait, what do you mean 'everything that's going to be trying to kill us?'"

  I take a minute to look at the trees. Trees are nice. Water and sun goes in, air comes out. Keep the soil filled with the right nutrients, and a tree can last forever. A nice, simple existence.

  Maybe Box can find a reality where I'm a tree and don't have to worry about any of this nonsense. That would be nice.

  DING

  Box is right. That is an obnoxiously cheerful noise.

  DING

  I can ignore it, though. It's not that bad.

  !! sparkles DING sparkles !!

  "...fine. Show me whatever it is you're going to show me."

  I immediately choose Avoidance.

  Well. That certainly is a lot of numbers.

  "Box?"

  I keep walking through the forest, following the green arrow. Even though I know exactly where we are in the valley by now, I'm curious if it's accurate, and so far it has been.

  "...I'm pretty sure you know that didn't make any sense to me."

  I step carefully around a pricklebush, watching for the telltale shivers that indicate it's about to fire its thorns. Luckily, the waist-high plant stays still, my footsteps light enough to fool it into considering me one of the natural inhabitants of the forest instead of a viable medium to grow new pricklebushes.

  "Hmmm, yeah, let's discuss the whole 'everyone coming to kill us' thing. That seems like an important thing. Maybe you should have led with that."

  "...you're not filling me with confidence, Box."

  "You're babbling again. Stupid it down for the stupid barbarian."

  "...and we'll get the rest of them," I snarl.

  An involuntary image of putrid nightmares overrunning the village flashes through my mind, and I shudder.

  "How do we do that?"

  I dodge another pricklebush, brushy stalks hiding between the pair of trees everyone calls 'The Lovers' due to how their trunks intertwine.

  "Something tells me it won't be 'easy.'"

  "What's a 'cake?'"

  I smile. Getting a dig in at Box feels good after all its high-and-mighty posturing.

  As I emerge from the deeper forest, I don't need Box's green arrow to hear the sounds of the village in the distance: the steam bellows hissing out their whistling roar, the metallic clank of the ironworks, the excited bird-chatter of little ones flailing their way through outdoor training. The scent of fresh bread hits my nostrils and I inhale it greedily, then spit in disgust as the wind shifts and the tannery's reek briefly cuts the air before being replaced by the savory tang of the roasting pits. All of it whispers one word.

  Home.

  I stumble out of the deeper forest into the outskirts of the village, houses and workshops curving around, up, and through the massive sentinels spreading their leafy canopies high overhead. I go to take another step, but suddenly my body won't obey me.

  I try to move forward, straining against the strange paralysis that's gripped my muscles, but nothing happens. I shout, and my lungs produce nothing more than a wheezing gasp.

  Let me go, I demand furiously in the silence of my thoughts, knowing Box can hear me, but the immobility persists.

  Let. Me. Go.

  ...I hate you.

  The paralysis lifts, and my return to my village is heralded by an undignified shriek.

  "You did what?!"