“You’re sure you got everything? Your passport? Your sudoku book? The watch?” Sebastian asked Fletcher as he helped him slide his backpack on. They stood outside Sebastian’s apartment building since Fletcher’s place had been cleared out the day before, leaving him to spend his last night in Alcett in his old bedroom. The sun was still low in the sky, and most of the colony was only just starting to wake.

  “Yes, Dad. I’ve double checked my bag four times already,” Fletcher assured his father. He held up his wrist to show where the worn timepiece sat, its leather band showing the decades of use, first by his grandfather, then his father, and now him as he set off into a land where he wouldn’t have access to his usual digital watch.

  “And you have my mailing address written down somewhere? It’s not that I don’t trust your memory, but with how hectic the past few days have been, it’s best that you have a hard copy somewhere for reference,” Sebastian continued.

  “Yes,” Fletcher said, trying to keep his nerves from surfacing as annoyance towards his father. He wanted to be sure they parted ways on the best of terms. He grabbed his dad in a hug. “I’ll write to you every week. Don’t worry so much. Chances are I’ll get a chance to visit at Christmas, but at worst, it’ll only be a year.”

  “I know. I know,” his father sighed as he hugged him back. “A lot can happen in a year, Fletcher. And if something does happen, I might never see you again.”

  “Don’t talk like that. I’m starting a new job, not dying. Jeez. Stop acting like this is my funeral.”

  They released each other, and his dad stepped back.

  “I’m your father. It’s my job to worry,” Sebastian reminded him.

  “Javier promised to check in on you, so he’ll make sure you don’t worry too much, got it?”

  “You should go. I wouldn’t want to make you late,” Sebastian said, tears in his eyes.

  “Bye, Dad. Love you,” Fletcher replied as he took his single suitcase in hand. Two bags were all he was allowed to bring with him, and their contents had to be inspected by both Human and Unhuman officials before he left the colony. He was allowed his laptop and charger, but nothing more in regards to advanced technology. Cell phones wouldn’t work there anyway, and the Unhumans barely produced enough electricity for the bare necessities so he’d be lucky if he could keep a charge on his computer.

  He turned to the soldiers waiting to escort him to the gate station where he’d go through his last round of checks before boarding his train. To his relief, none of the officers were the ones from Friday night when he’d met with General Taki and Senator Walen. He hadn’t heard anything more from the General since then, so he was starting to hope that they might actually leave him in peace.

  One soldier took his bags, and another opened the door for him to enter the backseat. Nobody else got in back with him, which made the trip far more pleasant. The car ride was silent the entire way to the check in station. A few other travelers were there, mostly Unhuman merchants. When the car came to a stop, Fletcher exited and discovered two officials already pulling his bags out, but instead of handing them to him, they took them inside for immediate inspection.

  That left Fletcher sitting in the sparsely populated waiting room, staring at the floor tiles until they were ready to finalize his departure. About twenty minutes passed before someone came to escort him into the back rooms to confirm all the contents of his bags were as they’d been before.

  The room was small with two tables out, each one holding one of his bags. Officers of both kinds—Human and Unhuman—stood at the back wall having already completed their checks, and they were now here just to watch Fletcher to repack his suitcase and backpack to ensure everything was there.

  He chose to start with his main suitcase that held all his clothes. Standing before nearly half a dozen people, Fletcher had to do the embarrassing task of refolding his boxers to replace in his suitcase. After that went the dress shirts, slacks, and ties he assumed he would need for work, and then his exercise clothes and the single pair of lazy clothes he’d been able to fit into the luggage.

  The shoes were the bulkiest so he brought only two other pairs besides what he wore. His hygiene items and socks fit in all the small nooks and crannies left by his imperfect packing job, and at last he could move on to something less awkward.

  His backpack was a lot easier to refill since it just held his laptop, a couple of his favorite books, a mostly completed sudoku puzzle book, and his journal.

  His… journal?

  Fletcher didn’t keep a journal. That was a hobby he’d only attempted once as a little kid and given up soon after.

  Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, he opened the front flap of the journal where a picture fell out. He picked it up to discover a zoomed in shot of him and his dad saying goodbye from only an hour ago. On the back was a short note, the words making his heart sink.

  Fletcher,

  I trust you know what to do with this.

  G.T.

  G.T. – General Taki. The message was clear. Do what he wanted, or else risk his father’s life. A dirty, underhanded move that Fletcher had no way of fighting back against, not now.

  “Everything alright, sir?” one of the Unhuman officials asked from the back.

  Fletcher looked at her and nodded. “Sorry. Just got distracted by this note from a friend.” He shoved the picture back in the journal and placed it in his backpack, zipping it up as quickly as he could.

  Who slipped that into his bag? And when? Unfortunately, he’d been separated from his stuff multiple times since this morning, giving ample opportunity for someone else to add the journal to his other belongings. At least the note had been vague enough that the Unhumans hadn’t picked up on anything.

  “The train is nearly ready to leave, sir,” a Human informed him, once again pulling his attention back to the small room with the tables.

  “Right. Yeah,” Fletcher said as he slid his backpack back on and took his luggage in hand, ignoring those who offered to take it for him. He would rather have his stuff right where he could see it for the foreseeable future.

  ***

  The sun was setting on the horizon, casting a purple hue over the trees blurring past. Fletcher stared out the window, thoroughly bored after twelve hours on the train. He’d more than exhausted conversation options with the other passengers—Humans and Unhumans alike, and everyone else appeared to be in the same boat as him, all silently engaged in their own worlds.

  They were due to pass the Breach sometime in the next few minutes, and Fletcher was a little disappointed that it was already so dim. Almost everyone else on the train had been on this journey multiple times, and they were all free in sharing just how incredible of a sight it was to cross from Earth into Mythia.

  It’d taken fifty years for the radiation to settle enough that safe passageways appeared in the mountains for Humans to make the trip into the world of the Unhumans, but nowadays, it was plenty common for Humans to visit the outer cities either as part of diplomatic staff or as advisors.

  “Lewis says we’re coming up on it,” a young woman said as she slid into the seat next to Fletcher. “I’m bummed we’re passing it so late.”

  “Me too,” Fletcher told Tyra, the only other person he’d met who was also visiting Mythia for her first time. She was part of the group who boarded at Bosion during the afternoon stop. She was only a little younger than him, a couple of years into her coding job, and she’d taken the advisor position within an embassy since it meant she was likely to get promoted once she got back. From what Fletcher had gleaned from the others, very few Humans did what they did out of a desire to help Unhumans but rather because it boosted their career in some way.

  “Oh, I think this is it,” Tyra squealed in excitement.

  Fletcher smiled and turned his attention back to the window. The thick walls of pine trees gave way to the flat grasses of a sprawling swamp. He moved to see backwards and watched as the mountainous forest faded away, and, even in the dwindling light, he could discern the abrupt line where the worlds had collided.

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  The Merger. The catastrophic event that changed the course of two worlds forever. Supposedly it was a physics experiment gone wrong on the Human side of things that caused two halves of two very different worlds to merge together in one, the boundaries being called Breaches. Or rather, for the world of Mythia joined Earth as the planet was still in the solar system with the same moon and stars overhead that Humans had had for thousands of years. But the planet was different, which was why they now called it Earth-Mythia, to represent both sides.

  But names aside, the planet was anything but united. The closest it had ever been to hosting a unified people was in the early years after the Merger when [Demanlics] kept the peace even as a huge percentage of the Humans died due to genetic incompatibility with the translation magic-radiation which flooded the planet. But after the First Unhuman War broke out, there was never hope of the peoples uniting again. Even the peace they had now, decades after the Second Unhuman War, was tenuous at best, and realistically, little better than a lie. The world was always on the brink of falling back into a war, something Fletcher despised despite having grown up knowing that was how things were.

  “Huh. A little anticlimactic,” Tyra said with a sigh.

  Fletcher snapped out of his thoughts, noticing that the scenery was one in the same now.

  Just like that, they were through the Breach and inside Mythia. Before the Merger, this area—once known as California—had been near the ocean, but now it was stitched together with the center of the largest continent from Mythia, Telra.

  Most of the Pacific Ocean, alongside Europe, Asia, and Oceania had been wiped away in the blink of an eye when the Merger occurred, dropping Telra, a few smaller sub continents and islands, and their Wingstar Ocean in their place.

  “The good news is that we’re close to Vericin. I’m ready to get off the train. Not that that helps you much. Bren’it’p is still another fourteen hours past that, right?” Tyra gave him a tired smile.

  “Something like that,” Fletcher said with a grimace. Fourteen more hours was going to suck, especially through the night.

  Tyra rehashed some of their conversation from six hours prior, but eventually there was nothing more to say, and she allowed the silence to return. It was only a few minutes later that the train slowed before coming to a stop at a station a few miles from the glimmering lights of Vericin.

  Fletcher looked around as the majority of the passengers prepared to exit. This train was scheduled to go all the way to the end of Unhuman territory, so all he had to do was stay on board.

  “This is my parents’ address in Bosion,” Tyra said as she stood up, sliding him a piece of paper. “Send a letter there with your address, and they’ll forward it to me. Maybe we can be pen pals or whatever. It’d be nice to have someone my age to talk about all the weird Unhuman customs with.”

  He took the paper with a smile. “I’ll do that. Thanks. I hope the job goes well.”

  “Same to you,” she replied. She stepped into the aisle and was lost in the crowd as the train more or less emptied. Once everyone was off, a few Unhumans boarded, but best that Fletcher could tell, he was the last Human in this cart, and perhaps even on the whole train.

  He leaned his head against the window, trying not to think so much about just how lonely he suddenly felt.

  “This is your stop,” a gruff voice said.

  Fletcher looked up at the [Undine] conductor speaking to him. Covered in light blue scales, his red hair was cropped short and uneven as he glared down at Fletcher. He held a small computing device in his webbed hand.

  “Uh, nope. I’m headed to Bren’it’p actually,” Fletcher replied with a smile.

  “As if they’d allow a jemlk’wp that deep in Mythia. The border cities are for your kind, Human.” The conductor stared down at him, and a quick glance showed that everyone else in the car was looking in their direction too.

  Fletcher exhaled and pulled his backpack out from under his seat. In another few seconds, he produced his passport and ticket, handing both to the conductor.

  The [Undine] accepted them with a wary look, one that changed to disgust upon scanning both items.

  “Our prime ministers are fools for thinking any Human is worthy of equal citizenship with us. If the deities have any justice, your stay will be brief, jemlk’wp.” He handed them back to Fletcher.

  “Thanks. I appreciate that,” he said tightly. He returned them to his backpack and slid it under his seat. It was completely dark outside, but Unhumans believed in leaving lights on all the time as a precaution against [Invisibility], so he didn’t have to worry about his [Dark Vision] activating and sending him to prison.

  All of the other passengers were busy whispering together, shooting curious glances his way as the conductor walked away and the train began to move. Settling against the window once again, Fletcher stared into the blackness, which almost perfectly reflected the scene around him. Even after sitting all day, the mental stress was enough to drain him, and he drifted into a fitful sleep.

  A rude awakening came as glass shattered from nearby. Fletcher sat up with a start as people screamed, and his eyes went to the [Dwarf] lying on the ground, blue blood pooling around him. There was no time to react as additional bullets rained into the carriage, sending everyone ducking for cover in-between seats.

  More shouting filled the space, and after nearly a minute, the shooting stopped. Nobody moved for several seconds to see if this was permanent or only a delay, and Fletcher realized that the train was still moving, going faster if anything. They must be trying to outrun the attackers.

  A woman, a [Fairy] with delicate, glass-like wings stood and ran towards the fallen [Dwarf]. With the windows all shattered, Fletcher could finally see into the night, and he caught sight of a faint outline moving.

  Acting on instinct, he dashed from his hiding spot and tackled the [Fairy], sending both of them flat against the ground as more shots rang out.

  “[Shield],” the woman underneath him said, and two walls of yellow energy appeared, covering both sides of the train car.

  He moved off of her, wondering why she hadn’t used that at the start.

  “Does anyone here have [Heal]? These [Shields] have used all of my [Mana]. I will not be able to help him now,” the [Fairy] said as she sat up.

  “It does not matter now. He is beyond help,” someone else said, a [Vampire] based on the pure white skin and hair. His eyes were blood red in color.

  Fletcher and the [Fairy] both looked to where the [Dwarf] lay. The wide, unmoving eyes and still chest revealed that life had already left him.

  “I might have been able to save him if you had not interfered, Human,” the [Fairy] said coldly.

  “You also might have been shot yourself in the process,” Fletcher defended himself.

  “Careful, jemlk’wp. After all, it was your kind that did this,” the [Vampire] replied.

  “This wasn’t the work of Humans.” Fletcher knew his people. Even if General Taki was preparing for war, they wouldn’t provoke it, not when Humans were so woefully outnumbered and ill-prepared. This was the work of terrorists.

  “Hexed Humans are still your kind, no?”

  “No. That’s why they’re not allowed in Human colonies,” he argued.

  “They have Human in them.”

  “And Unhuman.”

  “It is the Human that drives them to this. They don’t harm your kind in this manner. Only us,” the [Fairy] countered.

  “I can’t change that. This isn’t my fault,” Fletcher maintained, becoming a little too aware of how close the Unhumans were getting to him. Surely they wouldn’t blame him for the actions of others. They all saw that he had no part in this.

  The [Undine] conductor entered the car and cursed harshly in the Unhuman tongue. A neat trick of the translation magic was that Unhumans could forcefully turn it off when they spoke, but since Humans couldn’t access magic at all, they didn’t have that option.

  “Another death. These Hexed monsters have plagued us for too long. Something must be done,” the conductor said. Unsurprisingly, his eyes glanced at Fletcher, an accusing glint in them. But he didn’t do anything. Instead, he motioned to the door.

  “Everyone grab your things. The upper cars received far less damage. We will gather there for the rest of the night. Tomorrow, we will arrive in Bren’it’p where a new train will be waiting to take those who have other destinations onward.”

  All the passengers went to fulfill his instructions, but as Fletcher started to move, the conductor grabbed his arm.

  “Perhaps it would be best if you stay here. Tensions can run high after such things, and I would rather not deal with the paperwork of a Human death on top of this,” he murmured.

  “Fine. Works for me,” Fletcher said, pulling out of the grip. He returned to his seat which had one of the few intact windows. Every person that passed by gave him an obvious glare, but he refused to engage with any of them.

  After a few minutes they were all out, and the conductor stepped up to the body of the [Dwarf]. He muttered a few words of a prayer and then placed a blanket over him. He didn’t even bother to look at or speak to Fletcher as he left, leaving him alone with the corpse.

  Thanks to the many broken windows, cold air washed over Fletcher as he curled his arms close and tried to calm himself down. This wasn’t at all what he agreed to.

  With ringing ears, he stared out the window, grateful the majority of the lights still worked. Just him and a body, hanging out together in a freezing train car post terrorist attack for the rest of the night. What a lovely start to this new chapter in his life.