"YOU INBRED GLOWSTICK!"
"YOU GOTHIC MOLD SPORE!"
"YOUR FACE LOOKS LIKE A FAILED PATCH UPDATE!"
"YOUR WINGS SMELL LIKE DELETED BROWSER HISTORY!"
They clashed like two caffeinated pigeons with vengeance issues, sparks flying as tiny flaming swords and glowing halos crashed into each other in pure cartoon violence.
I stared blankly upward for a second. Then back at my cards. Two aces, three kings. Full house. Not bad.
I blinked. Exhaled. And tossed the cards into the center of the table like I was throwing away the remnants of my last f*ck.
"Okay. Alright. Seriously now."
I stood up and looked around at the versions of myself.
"Anyone here wanna explain why I'm having an existential breakdown with the literal split personality versions of me watching the eternal anime adaptation of Good vs. Evil above my f*cking head?!"
Child Me pointed upward and said.
"They're loud."
Teenage Me scoffed.
"They're embarrassing."
Yearly thirties me just took a long drag of his cigarette, blew the smoke out like a war survivor, and muttered.
"They've been at it since we went to sleep. You're just finally lucid enough to notice."
I slowly turned in place.
"Lucid enough to notice?! I'm practically in a pocket dimension playing poker with the psychological fallout of my life and those two chucklef*cks are using my subconscious like a coliseum!"
Angel Drac, now wielding what looked like a flaming trumpet, yelled down mid swing.
"It's not my fault he can't make up his mind!"
Demon Drac, dual wielding a broken bottle and a chaos emoji made of pure fire, cackled.
"This is your brain on trauma, baby! I live here rent free!"
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Okay. Enough. Shut it. All of you."
They didn't. Of course they didn't. I dropped back into my chair and slammed my forehead against the table with a thud.
"I swear to g*ds… the next time I see Invicta, I'm gonna ask her to install a mute button directly into my f*cking skull."
Angel Drac paused mid swing and raised his hand.
"Ooooh! I can bless that idea!"
Demon Drac raised a beer.
"Seconded! But only if I get to reprogram it to play 'Highway to Hell' every time you try to sleep."
I groaned again, louder this time only for the air to shift. One second, I was staring at my own mental soap opera angel and demon me whacking each other with glowing metaphors and the next, the air went still.
Heavy. Electric, like a thunderstorm was about to crash through the ceiling of my mind. Yearly Thirty Me, that good little soldier boy that always follows orders with the buzzcut, square jaw, and spine straight enough to be a ruler, Interlocked his fingers and leaned forward over the poker table, eyes like steel under a storm cloud.
"Alright,"
He said in that calm before the rage voice.
"You wanna know why you're really here?"
Something clicked. The lollipop in Child Me's mouth slowly slid out. Teenage Me's smug front dissolved into dead seriousness.
Above, Angel Drac and Demon Drac hovered midair silent now, both eyes locked on me. Even the g*dsdamn floating chaos mascots of my morality had gone quiet.
"Uh… yeah?"
I muttered.
"Of course I do, genius. But, uh… what's up with the sudden business meeting tone?"
That was when Yearly Thirty Me snapped.
"Shut the f*ck up and listen, dips*it."
My eyes went wide. The table creaked.
Child Me, now standing on his chair, pointed at me with a weirdly adult scowl.
"Dude I just wanted to be an astronaut when I grew up. I looked at the stars and saw hope. Wonder. Y'know what I see now?"
He jabbed the air again.
"You. A pissed off, drunk on regret, overgrown burnout who's afraid to face the truth which Is that hes good for nothing loser that no one would care about or remember once he finally crooked"
"...Excuse me?"
I blinked, slack jawed. The teen me shrugged like he was reciting a weather report.
"Sorry, old man, but I gotta agree with the pipsqueak and the adult c*nt on this one. You've been nothing but a walking disappointment."
I just sat there. Staring. Mouth hanging open like I'd been smacked in the soul with a frying pan.
"...Did I just get cursed out by my own f*cking subconsciousness?"
Angel Drac floated down and patted my shoulder.
"Unfortunately, yes. And as the embodiment of your better self, I have to say… you kinda earned it."
Demon Drac tossed his beer can over his shoulder.
"Yeah, and I'm the self destructive voice in your head and even I think you've been slacking."
I blinked. Once. Twice.
"You're me. All of you are me. Aren't you supposed to, I dunno, be supportive?"
Thirty Me slammed a palm down on the table, voice like gravel over steel.
"We're tired of being supportive old grumpy bastard me. We've been supportive for forty g*dsdamn years. Look where it's gotten us."
Child Me crossed his arms, eyes too wise for his face.
"You buried us. All of us. Under pain, guilt, fear, and failure. You turned your back on dreams and let the world grind us into dust."
Teen Me jabbed a thumb at his chest.
"And you let me rot. You shoved me down because you were scared of trying, giving It youre all, becoming an army grunt? That wasnt youre decision but one Influence by couple of beers and scrooge who signed up and decided to drag you In and the only reason you went with It Is because of that twisted sense of principle, code or honor or whatever you call It."
He paused to take a breateher.
"And for f*cks sake youre fourty and still single, no girfliend, no wife, no children, the longest youve f*cked a single chick was what three times? And you moved on to the next one, I dont get are you defective somehow or what? Or are just too scared to get attached to someone?"
And suddenly the table was silent. All eyes on me. All versions of me, from innocent to disillusioned to disciplined to twisted, glaring like they were tired of carrying my dead weight.
Smoke hung low across the table now, curling like lazy specters. The weight of the conversation was suffocating, and none of my other selves seemed interested in softening the blow.
Early Thirties Me leaned back in his chair, snuffed out his cigarette with a long, dragging hiss against the table's metal ashtray, then flicked a fresh one from the pack and slid it across to me.
Wordlessly, I caught it and lit up with muscle memory so old it may as well have been genetic. I took a long drag, then exhaled like I just finished swallowed a landmine.
"Alright. We don't have much time left,"
The early thirty me said, voice gritty with smoke and quiet resolve.
"So let's begin."
I tilted my head, letting the cigarette hang from the corner of my mouth like a noir detective without the trench coat.
"Oh boy, a storytime in my own f*cking brain. Let me guess, this is the part where you tell me I'm the Chosen One?"
"No,"
He said, staring right into me.
"But you need to understand who the f*ck you're dealing with."
He leaned forward.
"You know who Gaia is, right?"
"The personification of E*rth Itself"
I replied.
"G*ddess of nature, ancient Greek myth. Had twelve Titan babies with Uranus, biggest and baddest of them all being Kronos, who gave birth to the Olympians, who then created humans."
I exhaled smoke from the side of my lips while the cig balanced on the other, practiced and effortless. Twenty plus years of nicotine fueled regret makes you efficient, if nothing else.
"Congrats,"
He grunted.
"You get a gold star. Anyways..."
He stabbed a finger at me.
"It's real."
I stared. Blinked. Snorted.
"Yeah? Tell that to the machine g*ddess AI who's been playing 'Build A Human' with E*rth like it's a sandbox."
"That's also real, you dolt."
Came the sharp voice of Teen Me, who'd been silent until now. His tone had the kind of edge only someone who's fifteen and furious at the universe could conjure. My brow furrowed.
"What the f*ck do you mean 'also'?"
"Ever thought about the possibility,"
Teen Me said, leaning back and folding his arms.
"that the original humans the ones Gaia or whatever you want to call her made got exterminated? Or enslaved?"
My heart rate ticked up.
"...Keep going."
"And that Invicta's creators, or whoever came after the old g*ds fell, found the blueprints... and used humanity as canon fodder. Reverse engineered, bred, augmented, tested. Mass produced. Like batteries for a war they didn't survive long enough to win."
Silence fell again. Even the humming mental noise that usually filled this place died out. And then sirens. In my head. Like a f*cking alarm system.