"Are you sure I can borrow Bill's bed?"
Roberta asked innocently, sitting on one of them already. After all the teary greetings, she was finally led into their room.
While it wasn't filled with their possessions as they hadn't brought much, the scent of two men living there had already soaked into the bed pillows and the grimy walls.
"Yeah, it's completely fine." Inase, or rather Will for her, waved his hand in dispersal. "He'd gladly sleep on the floor if it meant letting a pretty lady like you have his bed."
Now that was some smooth PR work for his companion—no doubt, he was that confident. And from Roberta's chuckle, it was clear that she liked his cheeky reply too.
The blonde man leaned toward Hosen's experimental table, or rather, the table they should have been sharing, but which Hosen had claimed as his own. Inase was now stuck sorting through some of it to make room for their new guest.
As he did, he glanced over what his buddy had discovered so far.
Influence in the water: negative.
Like the papers said, no traces in the dirt samples either. It was clear.
There were some metals and other chemicals placed on the surface in safely sealed containers. He must have left them here in case they were needed.
Oho~ This might be useful for later.
Inase stuffed a flask into his pocket, having no conscience about stealing.
"You can feel at home, by the way. Not that this place is homey, though."
Hanging his jacket on the wooden frame, he flopped onto the bed (not caring enough about the etiquette in front of a guest), and the mattress underneath responded with a soft creak from the springs.
"As you can see, this place is falling apart."
"It's not that bad." Said the girl who lived in the mansion her entire life. "The townfolk take care of it as much as they can."
Well, in reality, Inase lived in much worse conditions in his timeline, so he shouldn't complain. Still, when he traveled in time, he'd like to experience the luxuries he didn't have himself.
"Yeah, yeah. Sure."
He made himself comfortable on the bed.
Roberta, on the other hand, looked around the room.
Bill said he was a doctor, but the chemicals and experimental setup on the table betrayed more than he led her on.
The mystery surrounding these two men became increasingly fascinating. It tingled at her curiosity like never before, while her legs swung up and down on the bed. Her mood brightened up evidently.
"Bill said it was going to take just a moment. When will he be back?"
"Dunno."
But that half-hearted of an answer wouldn't satiate her.
"What's the story between you two?"
Since she already knew Bill and Will were their aliases, it didn't hurt to ask some more to keep the conversation going.
Did she ever hear of the saying "curiosity killed the cat"?
Inase kept that thought to himself, "Nothing much. I just met the guy a few days ago," but he still entertained her with curt replies.
"No way!" It seemed hard to believe. "From your interactions, I thought you two had known each other for years!"
Roberta let out a silent gasp of surprise from behind her covered mouth.
"We're just bouncing off each other."
Inase, however, remained unbothered. He was the type to go with the flow, able to quickly adjust to new challenges and people. Adaptation came naturally.
"So, you're not that close?" She became more intrigued.
"Not really."
The answer was as simple as that. Hell, now that the topic was on the table, he might as well just say what he really thought about the guy.
"He's an individualistic weirdo who won't explain anything he does. A prick so wrapped up in his own mind that he often forgets others need to understand his thought process before they can trust him enough to do what they're told. He always does his own thing at his own pace and expects others to just go with it."
It was hard to trust a guy like that, but in the end, their job didn't depend on trust, but rather on the experience and knowledge they both had. And in that regard, they were exceptional.
As harsh as Inase's words were, they made Roberta giggle a little in understanding. She had witnessed situations where his words applied. Though what made it more entertaining was the fact that, against all the things he said, Inase knew him very well.
"Here you say you don't know him, but look how much you can already read off of him."
"I'm just good at this kind of stuff."
The man rolled to the side, making the bed creak with his every move. This talk put him in a grumpy mood.
"But, I do agree that his words are sometimes harsh, but so are yours." Roberta continued, remembering the time she had experienced it firsthand. "It's like you two think on the same plane."
"My words are the words of unfiltered truth! It's a personal charm, unlike someone else's."
Inase looked somehow… offended?
"He said it himself, he doesn't have friends! And, by his line of action, definitely doesn't trust me enough to call me that clingy bullshit either."
The perfect example would be right now, as he went off to finish his sneaky business and all. He was doing alone just fine.
"Oh, is someone getting embarrassed~?"
Seeing his unusual reaction, Roberta couldn't help but tease him at least once.
"As if."
"Then… do you consider him a friend?"
"..."
Good question. Did he?
Mildly frustrated, Inase rolled over in bed to the other side once again.
He was done with the topic—no more talking, no more answering!
***
"....I got too cocky."
Hosen had to admit, being too confident in throwing the bait was why he found himself trapped in this predicament.
Time seemed to blur its boundaries within this shadow realm of shifting perceptions, cloaked in eternal darkness.
The path before him stretched on as if he found himself in the narrowest canyon in the world—made of countless mirrors—and each reflected him from a different dimension lane.
Looking ahead was like staring into an endless maze, where every reflection of him stood still, yet with every step he took, his mirrored selves moved at their own, erratic rhythm.
His actions, whether in the past or the future, resonated across multiple dimensions, all different from the last. Even his hand, for example, was mirrored either before, after, quicker, or slower than his actual motion as he rummaged through his pocket.
A person unfamiliar with such fragmented dimensions would have already lost their sense of identity, but Hosen wasn't just anyone. Unlike most, who would have been driven mad by the ever-changing landscape, he could hold onto his mind for far longer.
After a lifetime spent surrounded by dangers that twisted the very fabric of existence, he had learned to maintain his grip on sanity—losing himself now would mean falling into the very trap this dimension had set for unwary souls.
Out of magnesium chunks…
The scientist cursed under his breath, realizing he had no way to defend himself.
Not anymore, at least. He had used up all his resources at the painter's mansion, and since he hadn't had the chance to replenish them at the inn, he was currently left with nothing.
And the monsters?
He felt them coming. If not now, then soon.
Hosen had to figure out an escape from this trap if he wanted to avoid becoming the next missing victim.
Time was ticking.
His legs moved towards the only light source coming from above—the crevasse on the floor that he had previously fallen through. It was distant, but reaching it wasn't impossible.
Yet, no matter how much progress he made, it felt like he wasn't getting closer anytime soon.
As he predicted, the monsters appeared across the dimensional layers, sensing his presence.
Their forms were warped in each plane, grotesque reflections of one another.
They moved in a flat, two-dimensional manner, gliding horizontally but never vertically, ready to pursue their latest prey who had fallen into their hunting grounds.*(1)
Layer by layer, they sought through every dimension, transitioning from one to the next, though they were still far away.
"Ugh-"
Until, suddenly, Hosen felt a sharp, piercing pain on the back of his shoulder.
It throbbed with each pulse as blood trickled down the curve of his arm, leaving a tempting trail behind.
He couldn't make sense of it at first—he shouldn't have been injured, because no tentacles had struck him, and the enemies were still on the horizon (if it was even visible in this darkness).
His eye flicked frantically from one reflection to another until, finally, he spotted a tentacle piercing his shoulder a long distance away.
Ah… so that's how it is.
He had been stabbed in another dimension as if all the projections of himself were somehow linked to his own.
That's right.
The entities didn't have to find his plane to reach him, per se—reaching one of his duplicates from other perspectives was enough to hurt him, which complicated things drastically.
His only chance at survival was to watch every single reflection at once, evading them as though he were dancing with his own shadow in a mirror.
Hosen wasn't particularly athletic, but his sense of self-preservation left no room for hesitation.
He had to survive. The knowledge he obtained here couldn't be wasted.
So, without any unnecessary doubts, he performed the mortal tango with the enemy.
Thankfully, Hosen remembered their movement patterns—he saw them in reality. Thus, it became easier to foresee their next move. Only by outsmarting these hunting shadows could he survive.
As the tentacles launched to the right, he moved himself to the left. When they pursued further, he twisted and rolled, narrowly escaping their grasp, yet he never faltered in his persistent march toward the light.
In this endless struggle to avoid being skewered, he fought with everything he had—against the odds, against the creatures, against the very nature of this twisted realm.
It was a hunt, after all. Being prey was nothing new. It was a constant, an inevitable part of his existence.
Mirror after mirror, dimension after dimension, reflection after reflection.
His brain continuously calculated the best escape route, predicted every attack in advance, and operated at such a high capacity that anyone else's would have already been fried to a crisp.
Yet, he still prevailed without missing a beat.
Even though he was struck countless times—his clothes torn, full of holes; his body scratched; his nearly broken eyepatch hanging by a thread; each blow served as a reminder of the peril he faced.
When a tentacle lunged at his head from the fifth mirrored image—though it did not exist in his own—he narrowly dodged it, reacting just in time the moment he saw it coming.
No matter the injury, he pressed on.
Closer and closer he got to the ray of light that was his escape, the assaults became more aggressive.
And when his way out was finally within his grasp, Hosen carefully estimated the position of each enemy.
He leaped onto the backs (if he could even call it that) of the shadowy figures—with fully physical forms in this realm—who weren't in his plane but in the many reflections surrounding his.
He swore he felt them under his feet.
With one final leap, one last surge of strength, just one more push, and he would grasp the ledge of the crevasse… but while his fingers stretched toward salvation, time seemed to freeze.
His body, betraying him at the last moment, felt agonizingly short. His outstretched fingers grazed the air, but the edge—his only ray of hope—remained just beyond his reach.
"Damnit…"
He miscalculated a step, and soon after, he began to sink toward the hundreds of shadowy creatures waiting for him at the bottom…
...
This was how it ended…?
…
Really?
...
Was this how his thrilling quest for forbidden knowledge was destined to wind up?
...
Hah, destiny can fuck itself—
—at the very last second, a hand from above reached out and grabbed his own, holding on firmly.
"What the hell are you doing, being caught in a seeker's trap!?"
And a familiar, gritty voice echoed in the realm of darkness, screaming his lungs out.
Hosen's eyes widened in shock, both at the sheer stupidity of someone daring to save him and the fact that he had been found at all.
But once he snapped back to reality, he realized he recognized that idiotic grin anywhere.
Inase.
"Pull, pull, pull! Hurry up!"
Was this really the first thing he says after reuniting with his buddy—order him around?
"Shut up! I am! You're just too heavy—!!!"
The blonde did all the work here, mind you!
Gritting his teeth and putting his own life at risk, he forced himself through the two-dimensional portal, using every last ounce of his energy to pull that guy out of the tiny crack in the ground.
He was not about to lose his new partner to some stupid monsters!
Bracing his legs,
"Grrr—aaaaAAAAHH!!!"
And letting out a guttural scream, he pulled up until he ejected Hosen out of that hellhole. The two shot out of the rift, which closed behind them instantly.
At last, they collapsed flat on the carpet, gasping for air, their chests rising and falling with each heavy breath.
"Hah… hahah… Seriously, dude…. What the hell…?"
For the longest time, the only existing sounds were their ragged breaths and Inase's dry chuckles, since he surely didn't think they would be able to live through whatever they just did.
"Hahah… ha…"
Hosen was the first to calm his breath as he quietly sat up and cautiously looked around the room.
A body spread before the fireplace, casting a shadow on the realm that had just closed its otherworldly gates.
Ralph was dead—Inase made sure to take care of it.
Although it was a quick knife plunge to his heart and the knife was still stuck in his chest, the body wasn't bleeding, not even a drop.
Hosen's eyes turned to the window, where he noticed darkness outside.
Was it night already?
Huh… so time shifted differently in that realm. While it felt like only thirty minutes of struggle, in reality, it continued til dusk.
"You're not that stupid, are you?"
The blonde broke the silence, doubling down on his previous comment when his lungs had finally caught a bit of rest.
"I was curious about their dimension," Hosen responded in his usual, calm voice.
For experimental purposes, he let himself be trapped. And now that he had found out his answers, he was satisfied.
"I can't with you… So what would have happened if I hadn't come, hm?"
"But you did."
Did that mean Hosen trusted him?
What a crazy bastard…
Whatever. Just thinking about it made his head spin, so enough about that.
Inase, recalling their past talk along with whatever Roberta had been rambling on, pushed himself up and stared at the man with a confident grin instead.
"So now that I risked my life for you, does that make us friends?
As rare as it was, Hosen scoffed lightheartedly in response.
"Well, I could trust my back to you one time, at least."
Still not. For the present, they'd have to tolerate each other. After all, they were going to be time-traveling buddies for much, much longer.
*(1) from: "The Abyss" by Robert A.W. Lowndes, 1941