The lights in the heavens, their number too great to count, and their scale too fast to comprehend, were screaming. Space and time unmade itself around them, ripping them from reality. Like candles in a tempest, they were all soon extinguished, leaving only darkness and silence. But the stillness was not meant to last, as with the hum and crackle of vast amounts of energy, eyes like emeralds shined brilliantly, revealing a grinning, bearded visage. Soon his light was joined by the rest of those on the bridge of his vessel, the divine machine itself, and a billion others like it in the expanse of space surrounding them. The lights of their souls illuminated the void, as though the stars had never been shut off.

"Status report," the bearded man spoke, breaking the silence.

An eerily pale woman adorned in spiral-patterned garments responded calmly, "The Great Dimensional Waterfall has been ruptured. Our fleet was taken into the rift. We are now in negative space."

The man laughed the sound rumbling deep in his barrel-like chest. "Is that all? Do they hope to eliminate us by turning out the lights?" He strode forward, his mane of thick, dark hair and his rough-spun cloak billowing in the ether wind. "Our forces outnumber the stars themselves! They cannot possibly hope to outmatch the might of the Spiral Armada!"

A small, shelled creature sniggered from its perch upon the man's shoulder, clinging to an alien skull that he wore as a pauldron. "Headstrong as ever, I see." It cackled, puffing its pipe.

Disregarding its comment, the man continued barking orders to the strangely identical bridge bunnies, which he towered over like a god among mortals. "Hail the other dreadnoughts. Tell them to fire upon the remnants of the dimensional rupture on my mark." His outstretched hand tightened into a fist as large as a lesser man's head. "We shall force our way back into real-space through sheer strength and force of will! Now! Behold the power of the Lazengann! Behold the power of the spiral!"

Making toys; day after day, that's my hobby. I shape them out of metal and paint them, and I bring them just about everywhere with me. When the weather is nice, I go outside with all of them, and arrange them around me like a circle of friends. Do I just make toys because I like to play with them? No, not exactly. I mostly do it because I'm lonely.

I'm sat on a swing set in a playground that I like to go to, swinging very gently in the autumn breeze. My toys are all spread around me, each of them facing in towards me. Each of them has a name, and a little smiling face. I notice that my dolphin, Coco, needs a new coat of paint. I have to touch them up pretty often, because the paint I use is cheap, and doesn't hold well to the scrap metal that I make my toys out of.

A little girl that was on the far end of the playground the last time I saw her, is walking toward me slowly, her hands clasped behind her back. She takes small, shallow steps in my direction, trying to avoid looking at me. Once she's at the edge of my perimeter of toys, she kneels down and reaches towards my samurai, Momo.

"Haruko!" Her mother, sat on a bench not far from me, snaps at her. The girl freezes, and her outstretched hand snaps to her side. The woman walks over as quickly as her high heels will allow her, and takes her daughter rather firmly by the hand. "Don't touch any of those toys, they look very expensive and I wouldn't want to replace one if you broke it." The girl nods solemnly as they begin to walk off together. "And how many times must I tell you not to take things that don't belong to you? Your father will hear about this…"

I don't hear anything else she says, as they are too far away. All the while, I'm sat on the swing, silently watching their backs fade into the distance, and then turn a corner behind a building and disappear completely. I close my eyes and rock on the swing for a few moments while I think. I should be getting back soon. I drop down off of the swing and start gathering up my toys, and setting them gently into my backpack, careful to keep any of them from falling through the holes in the bottom.

"Ew, look, it's Genome the loner!" I look up from my toys to see three girls stood on the sidewalk, staring at me. I recognize all of them, vaguely, as they all go to my school. Each of them has a pretty, made-up face, and pretty, pink clothes, and pretty, squeaky voices, and I couldn't tell you their names if I wanted to.

"I don't get it, what's the point of playing with toys when you're in high school?" says another one.

"And he's so short!"

"He wears the same clothes every day!"

"And he's creepy!"

"Ugh, he's looking at us!"

"If we don't get moving, he might make us play dolls with him!"

They shuffle away, giggling, as I continue to stare at the ground where they once stood. What a bunch of fools. I'd rather be alone than spend any longer than I had to with any of them. As it is, I'm alone most of the time. While I finish putting my toys away, their words keep buzzing in my head like hummingbirds. I'm not creepy! What the hell do they know? Do they know how to disassemble a car engine, like I can? Or put one back together as fast as I can? I doubt it. Pfft. Idiots.

I sling put my backpack on and start the walk back. Dinner won't be for hours, so I'm not in any great hurry. I kick a pebble as I slowly meander down the sidewalk. I hardly look up the entire time; I know the route by heart at this point. I guess I wasn't paying attention, as I don't notice the person I walked into until my face was in her breasts.

I'm stopped in my tracks, obviously. I calmly take a step backwards and look up to see whoever I have the misfortune of having to apologize to. The first things I see are two eyes like amethysts, the surprise in them melting into recognition, and two pink lips, smiling sweetly. It's Nia, another girl from my school. I'm now actually embarrassed by my blunder, though I'm not entirely sure why. Her chest was really soft. And she smelled nice. Damn her, if she wasn't so much taller than me, this wouldn't even be an issue.

"Hey there, Genome!" she says. I grunt in response, trying to hide my blushing face under my blue-blond bangs. "Sorry about that, I guess I wasn't watching where I was walking. I'm actually glad I found you, I thought you would be around here."

"You were looking for me?" I ask, still avoiding her gaze.

"Ah-huh! I didn't see you sixth period, so I was wondering where you went." She puts her hands on her hips and leans forward into my face, smiling mischievously. "Skipping school, are we?"

I continue to avoid looking her in the eyes, and my eyebrows knit together in annoyance. "I wasn't feeling well, so they let me leave." I cross my arms defensively. How the hell is this any of her business?

She giggles a bit and straightens out, going back to towering over me. "Well, buddy," Ugh, don't call me buddy. "If that's your story, I won't pry." She ruffles my hair, the one gesture that I despise more than anything. I look up to glare at her, only to see that her back is turned and she's already started to walk away. I shrug and also begin to walk away. "Oh, Genome, one more thing!" I stop. "Are you busy later?"

I slowly turn around to face her, and look up at her warily. "Why?"

She's as whimsical as ever. "Oh, I'm going to make my special fried onigiri for dinner, and I was wondering if you'd want to join me."

I think about it for a moment. It does sound nice. But something about going to Nia's house made me uncomfortable for some reason. "Uh, n-no, I'd rather not. Thanks anyway, Nia."

Her smile falters, but only for a moment. "Okay, if you say so! I'll bring you leftovers tomorrow!" She spins on her foot to turn back around, her black hair flowing like a cresting wave. "If there's any left!" she calls back over her shoulder before she practically skips away, giggling. There is something very odd about her, and probably not in a good way.

The rest of the walk back passed by uneventfully, and the sun is setting as I stand in front of my destination: the orphanage. That was just what it was called, the orphanage. It didn't have one of those fancy names like "The Somebody Important or at Least Rich Children's Home." It didn't have any name at all. Well, if it did, the sign fell off ages ago. I sigh deeply as I push past the rusted front door, putting my shoulder into it to get it open. A cacophony of crying and screaming children greets me as I enter. Home sweet home. I drop my backpack on my bed, which is in the very back of the building, grab my broom and start sweeping. When you turn fourteen, you have to work if you want to keep living at the orphanage, and I just turned fourteen this year, so I clean. The older kids cook and take care of the younger ones, and our matron (who I have never seen and I suspect doesn't exist) handles the meager income this place gets.

I try to block out all of the noise and business going on around me as I do my chores. I really keep to myself as much as possible; I do my chores, stay quiet, and keep my space neat, and nobody bothers me. Some of the kids here are in my classes, and they don't so much as ask me what was for homework. I really prefer it this way. Most of the people here are slobs, or idiots, and it having to converse with them would just frustrate me endlessly. I finish up my sweeping, and dinner is served. I stuff half my meal (boiled carrots and bread) into my pocket as discreetly as possible, and then clean up the kitchen. By the time I'm finished, most of the younger kids are in bed, and the older ones are busy doing their schoolwork. I grab my backpack and slip out the back door when no one is looking.

The orphanage has a cellar that was apparently sealed away years ago, and everybody has forgotten about it. Except I found it about five years ago. I pull away a piece of plywood that I pried off ages ago, slip down into the cellar through a broken window, and put the board back in front of the window. It's cold and dark down here, but not musty or dank, so it can be kind of pleasant. I flick on a lamp that I pieced together a while ago, illuminating the small corner of the cellar that I cleaned up. A little green, snouted face pokes out from a pile of blankets in a cardboard box, and spots me quickly. The little creature, green and scaly with an orange shell, scrambles out of his bed and waddles over to me on his stubby legs, and rubs against me affectionately. I smile as I kneel down and pet him.

"Hey, Guame. Miss me?" The armadillo doesn't answer, but rolls over and lets me scratch his belly. "Sorry I'm late. They really made a mess of the kitchen. Sloppy bastards. I brought you dinner." I pull out the food that I had stashed in my pocket, and spread it out before Guame, who digs into it without a moment's hesitation. I slip my backpack off, sit down with my back against the cinderblock wall and continue talking to him, "We should go for a walk tomorrow. I want to pick up some new books from the library, and maybe get some more blue paint. Coco needs to be touched up, and I think I'm out of her color. Though I don't know about skipping school again tomorrow. People are starting to notice. Well, one person." Guame looks up from his half-finished meal, looking at me inquisitively. "It was Nia, this girl in my class. She kind of tracked me down earlier, and asked where I went. I don't know how she managed to find me, or why she didn't actually say anything to me." I rub my eyes tiredly. "Ugh, I can't understand women." Guame seems to nod knowingly as he finishes his dinner. Pfft, armadillos, always think they know everything.

As Guame curls up into a ball and rolls around on the floor (I have no idea why he does this), and get up and move over to my workbench. I feel inspired today, for some reason. I flick on the second lamp over the paint-stained plank that I build my toys on. I dig through the pile of tin cans and other bits of rubbish metal for a few decent-sized pieces, and then get to work shaping them. I bend and twist and rip most of the metal with my bare hands. Sometimes I cut my fingers, but it's no big deal. I melt the pieces into each other with a lighter, and I sometimes use a screwdriver and some spare screws I find lying around. But my most important tool is the one I use for detailing and precise shaping, and is probably my most valuable possession: a power drill. I saved up change I found on the ground for a year to buy this, and I absolutely love it. How easily I can craft patterns and faces and smooth edges and easily dig screws into the thick metal I use as stands continues to amaze me. I feel like a master sculptor at work with a drill in my hands.

After working on a new toy for a while, I feel pretty tired. Yawning, I flick off my work light, and go back to sitting next to Guame, who has fallen asleep. I pull a book out from my box full of them and leaf through it, examining diagrams of airplane engines. I like to check books out of the library fairly frequently, and the ones that I like the most I sneak out under my shirt after I've returned them. Nobody really notices, as the nearest library is already old as dirt and falling apart, and print books pretty much went the way of the dodo a decade ago. My eyes get heavy, and I yawn more and more as time goes by. Today was eventful, sort of.

A tremendous, thumping noise above my head awakes me. I leap up, shocked to realize that I fell asleep in the cellar. I can see the sun streaming in through the tiny space between the edge of the window and the board covering it. All of the commotion upstairs must be everyone else in a mad rush to get ready for school, like every other morning. If I don't hurry, I'm going to be late for school. I really don't care about the actual tardiness as much as the attention that it would attract me. I already have some issues with truancy; I'd probably have to listen to some horrifying lecture from some decrepit teacher about the importance of an educational system that was outdated fifty years ago.

I scramble up and out of the cellar, sending the book in my lap flying as I do so. I sneak into the orphanage through the back door, discreetly arriving amidst the chaos. I grab some breakfast (plain toast) and my school materials from beneath my undisturbed bed, and leave ahead of everyone else, just so I don't have to walk in the mass formation that the rest of them walk in. I think for safety, but you can tell just by looking at me that I don't have any money on me, so I've never been mugged. I actually look down at myself and realize that I haven't changed my clothes for about three days. I shrug and keep walking, as there's nothing I can do about it. This oversize hoodie and these undersize shorts are the only clothes I have, save a few changes of undergarments.

Most people take the bus to school, but I can't afford the fares. Not to mention that the idea of cramming into a suffocating metal tomb with a bunch of overly-touchy strangers doesn't exactly appeal to me. So I walk. It doesn't take me especially long, and I guess it keeps me pretty fit, but I'm pretty tired by the time I actually reach the school. I think I need to eat more. Regardless, I have the nagging feeling that I forgot something. The feeling stays with me all the way to school, and continues to bug me as I walk into homeroom. Nia is sat in the seat across the room from mine, close to the door, and she beams and waves to me as I walk in. I ignore her, still troubled by having forgotten what I had forgotten.

I pass out through my first two periods, and blow off my third, having not done the work last night. My grades are pretty bad, but I don't care. With how my life is going, I really don't expect to become anyone important. If I'm lucky I can become something like a skilled laborer, which is why I read so many books and practice with tools. I don't really have much in the way of ambition, so I don't have any real goal to shoot for. Maybe making toys for a living would be nice, but I can't think of anything I'd actually like to do, beyond that. Still, I push that thought to the back of my head as I continue to stress about whatever I had forgotten. Details like these always mess with me, and I can hardly think straight when things like these happen.

Lunch period comes, and I hardly notice until Nia is stood in front of my desk with a wrapped bento in her hands. I notice at first the buckle of her belt, and I see my reflection in it. I look like hell; my hair is a tangled, pastel mess, I'm even paler than usual, and there are dark bags under my crazy-colored eyes. My gaze drifts upwards to see Nia looking down at me expectantly, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn together.

"Gee, Genome, are you alright? You really do look sick."

I try and brush her off. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. I'm fine."

She tilts her head in thought. "Well, alright, if you say so." She doesn't sound convinced. "Anyway, it's too bad you couldn't make it for dinner last night."

The fact that she's still stood in front of me baffles my already strained thoughts. "Uh, yeah. Too bad."

She apparently takes this as a cue that I want to continue talking to her, the delusional broad, and sits down at the desk in front of mine, facing backwards toward me. "Yeah, it was really good! I stuffed some of the onigiri with pickled ume, and some others with red beans!"

I try my best not to contort my face into some kind of grimace. It's not her fault she was born stupid. "Yeah, Nia, sounds nice."

"But I made too much," she continues, to my exasperation, "So I brought you the leftovers, just like I promised!" She holds out the bento to me, attracting a few looks from around the room. Whispers begin to sound around the class as the bento hangs in front of me. My eyes widen and I stare intensely at the packed lunch as an increasingly stressed expression manifests on my face.

Oh. Oh no. What is she doing? This is unacceptable. This was the last thing that I needed. I didn't have dinner with her for this exact reason. I can't have all of these idiots going around and talking about me like this; about me and Nia, of all people. School is hellish enough just trying to avoid the company of these people. Attracting their attention through some kind of scandal like this is precisely the opposite thing that I want.

"I, uh, I," I stutter. I can't accept this from her and still maintain my dignity. She did make me lunch, though, I'm not just some kind of asshole that can spit in her face for doing something like that. Like I said, it's not her fault she's stupid. "T-thanks, but no thanks, Nia. I'm, uh, actually not feeling that well after all." I breathe a sigh of relief. "You were right." I add on. Whew, nice save.

"Oh, I..." She retracts the bento and places it on her lap. She looks down at it and fiddles with her fingers, looking dejected. Oh, god dammit. I still made her upset. "That's okay. Um." She bites her lip as she looks up at me. "I could make you some soup, if you want. After school, I could walk it over to…" She trails off, realizing what she was saying.

I scrutinize her, now very suspicious. My reputation as the "creepy poor kid that's always by himself" is common knowledge, but my status as a resident of the orphanage is not. "Do you… How do you know where I live, Nia?"

"I, uh," She looks cornered, almost frightened. Ugh, this conversation took a sudden and very sharp turn for the sickeningly uncomfortable just now. "I asked Ken, and he said that he sees you around that old, uh, house out on the outskirts of the city a lot so…"

Ugh, Ken. I shudder just hearing his name. While most people just avoid me out because of the stigma that I generate, Ken seems to go out of his way to torment me. Harassing me on my way to school, writing threats on my desk, all very childish stuff. Guy has issues most likely, but that doesn't stop him from being a pain in the ass. The fact that he actually knows where I live is a discomforting thought. I slump down in my desk, now thoroughly disappointed with this day so far, and still not any closer to figuring out what I've left amiss.

Nia apparently shuffled off while my head reeled from sheer incredulity, and the period changes into PE. Whoever's bright idea it was to have exercise immediately after eating I don't know, but I wouldn't mind giving him a piece of my mind. I don't have a gym uniform, so I just shed my hoodie and tie it around my waist, and walk out in the ratty blue tee-shirt that I wear underneath. I wander out onto the admittedly rather nice sporting field, and decide to engage in my usual activity: playing tetherball alone. I whack the leathery ball with my fist a few times, and watch the rope wind around the pole. There's a simple pleasure that comes from watching a corkscrew pattern emerge from the ball wrapping around the post it hangs from. However, just as the ball was about to stop itself, a great force from the other direction smacked the ball, sending it flying around in the opposite direction, and very nearly hitting me square in the face.

The source of the antagonistic force is readily visible: Ken stands leaning against the pole, a wolfish grin contrasting with his birdlike face. "Hey there, Big Gee," He calls me that when he wants to annoy me, because he knows stupid nicknames like that piss me off. "Havin' fun playing ball? Doesn't it get old, just whackin' it around by yourself every day? Well, I guess your private life is your business, huh?" I don't pay him any heed, and just walk away. Mostly to avoid a confrontation, partly because I know it pisses him off. But it doesn't for some reason. "Hey, hey, now, you may not want to be running away. I've got a surprise for you." I stop, but I don't turn around. "Boy, this is a pretty dolphin. I bet if I put it in water, it would swim away." I turn to face him, slowly and cautiously, and my eyes go wide as I see him holding Coco, my dolphin, dangerously by her flukes.

"How… I… Uh…" I stutter, still too shocked to see him holding her to choke out anything coherent.

"Follow me, and all will be revealed." He says, almost giddy, before skipping away with Coco still precariously between his fingers.

I felt like I didn't have any choice other than to follow him. I walked behind Ken like I was in a trance, slowly shuffling my feet and not taking my eyes off of his bouncing back. I scarcely noticed a second set of footsteps not far behind mine, moving from cover to cover as I followed Ken around the corner of the school. We were now where the dumpsters were kept, and the ground was littered with hundreds of cigarette butts. This place is out of sight of the PE monitors, so students come here to smoke, or do anything else that they don't want to be seen.

Ken winks at me, a gesture I find more threatening than irritating, as I usually do, and reaches behind a dumpster to pull out a familiar-looking black backpack. He has my backpack. I could tell just by looking at it, all of my toys were in it. How? Did he? I can barely put any thoughts in my head. The next thing I know, my knees are going out from under me, and I'm falling back onto my ass in shock. I continue to stare as Ken tosses my backpack from hand to hand like a basketball.

"You know," He starts, sounding infuriatingly smug. "If you've got a secret stash, you should really hide it better. I didn't even have to look hard to spot where you crawl in there like a rat. But boy, you had some goodies in there. Books, power tools… I didn't know what to take! But as soon as I saw this," He tosses my bag up into the air again, and then catches it with a grunt. "I knew that I hit the jackpot. So, what do you say we play a little game? Like, uh, catch!"

I try to yell, to scream, to even get up off of my feet, but all I can do is sit there, bug-eyed and mouth agape. I feel… violated, like he had contaminated something inside of me. As he digs through my backpack, I hear my toys clinking together in it, and I couldn't help but think that it sounded like they were screaming. I then realize why this hurts me so deeply: he's taking my only friends away from me. Out of the finite number of beings that I can confide in, these toys make up the majority. And he's threatening them. Threatening my friends.

Slowly, I rise up onto my feet. As I do so, he pulls a toy out, Timi the gorilla, and chucks it at me, obviously trying to strike me with it. He misses, barely, as I stand to my full, unintimidating height. I give him the best glare I can manage, which isn't good, which he laughs at and throws another toy, Alice the scorpion. She grazes my arm, and I grunt in pain, but I don't back down. Rather, I take a step forward, still glaring at him. Another toy thrown, now Clyde, my blue jay. I duck under it, and charge at Ken, screaming like a madman.

Ken's eyes go wide as I rush at him, and he stops rummaging for toys to throw at me. Before he can react, I tackle into him with all of my strength, trying to bring him down. Trying is definitely the best way to put it. Ken happens to be two years older than me, and twice my size. He doesn't even budge, and rather than back down, he gets angry. His knee comes up into my stomach, knocking me away. I stagger backwards, clutching my middle in pain. He throws my backpack at me with a yell, and it strikes me in the chest, knocking the wind out of me. I fall onto my side, gasping for breath. I look up at Ken, pitifully, and see his face red and twisted with rage. He stomps over to me and pulls his foot back, before kicking me in the back as hard as he can. I cry out in pain, and he does it again.

He keeps kicking me, punctuating his strikes with cries of, "You little freak! How dare you touch me! I'll kill you!"

For a moment, I genuinely think he is going to kill me. I can feel myself starting to black out, and my body going numb from his blows. I eventually stop struggling, thinking that he'll give up. He doesn't, but he's tiring quickly, with his kicks becoming weaker and less frequent. I let my neck go limp, and just let my head roll on the filthy ground. As I feel my eyelids getting heavy, I see something strange at the edge of the wall obscuring us from sight. I squint to focus on it, and I see Nia there, watching us in shock. I see tears in her eyes as her hands are clasped over her mouth to keep from screaming. I try to yell to her, to say anything, but all I can manage to get out are choking coughs.

Ken looks up from my bloody and bruised body to where I'm looking, and spots Nia standing there. He abruptly stops beating me, curses quietly, turns tail and runs away. I'm left writhing on the ground, trying to talk, or at least keep myself conscious, all the while my eyes fixed on Nia. She takes a step out from behind the wall, toward me, but then stops and shakes her head. I think for a moment that she's going to run away and leave me here. It wouldn't surprise me if she did. But instead she chooses to surprise me by running over to me, and kneeling down at my side.

"Ohmigod, Genome, are you okay? Ohmigod. Ohmigod, Ken, he, I, I'm sorry, I…" She tries desperately to say something, but she's practically as distraught as I am. "Should I go get someone? Should I…" I cut her off by placing my shivering hand on her thigh. I just want her to stay. "Genome…" She murmurs, sounding absolutely miserable.

She gets the message, to my great relief, and scoots closer to me. She kneels very close to me and places my head in her lap, letting me rest without putting my face in garbage. We sit there for a few minutes in relative silence, me struggling to breathe and Nia struggling not to weep.

"Nia," I eventually choke out, my voice raspy and weak. "I…"

She places her finger over my lips, "Shh, don't talk, just breathe."

"N-no," I brush her hand away. "M-my friends, I…" I can't hold it in anymore. Tears flow sideways down my cheeks and onto Nia's lap, cutting clean swaths through my dirt and blood-caked face. "Friends. Couldn't save them."

Still sniffling, she inquires, "F-friends? Genome? You mean these toys?"

"Y-yes." I whimper, realizing how pathetic that sounded. God, I really am the sorriest excuse for a human being. "I… I only have toys. And n-now… now I have no one. All… All alone."

Nia can't hold back anymore. She wails loudly and presses her now also tear-soaked face against mine as she chokes out, "D-don't ever say that! You are not alone!"

A prideful anger bubbles up beneath my sorrow and my pain. "Don't… don't you dare pity me!"

She wraps her arms around me and continues to rub her wet cheek against mine. "Y-you don't get it. I'm alone, just like you are. B-but if you stay with me, neither of us are alone, right?"

"Right…" I sigh, feeling the last of my energy leave me. Neither of us alone, I think, as I slowly slip away into darkness.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Author's Note

Yeah, so I'm back after literal years. I've been meaning to write this one for a while. Expect an epic as I try to pay tribute to one of my most favorite characters in all of fiction. The entire character of Nia is borrowed from a doujinshi that covers a similar story, which I'm drawing a lot of inspiration from.

Anyway, this chapter was a multi-day effort, and I needed a vacation to get it done, so don't expect frequent updates. Those of you (that are left) that know me are all too familiar with my update schedule.

Until We Meet Again,

PCN