Indeed, abreast from where Iker was regaining consciousness was Camilo holding up his head. Out of curiosity as to what Camilo was staring at, Iker redirected his gaze to find himself on the lawn of his suburban home at Pueblo. However, upon trying to comprehend what in the heavens happened to his family home, Iker was compelled to ward off who was causing unwanted arousal. Before Camilo could catch the teenage reaction to his touch, Iker shoved him away and rolled over a handful of times on the dying grass.

  "What the fuck is wrong you? You might have a concussion!" Camilo yelled.

  "I'm good!" Iker yelled back at him, only now realizing how hard his temples were trying to push into his mind.

  Camilo raised an eyebrow above his mirror-like sepia eyes. There were always rumors that Camilo was a test tube baby, and his eyes was one of the reasons the rumors started. "Are you sure?"

  After that question brought attention to his lightly ringing ears, Iker also came to the realization that the top half of his countenance was hard to move. Upon raising his brows, maybe mirroring what Camilo was already doing, dried blood flaked across his forehead. Iker lightly tapped parts of his scalp peeking out of his hood, flaking more artifacts of his head previously bleeding profusely.

  "Were... were you the one that closed my... wait... I think I would have needed stitches for this," Iker gaped.

  "You gave me flux powers. Our memories of how you did it is gone, but you did it," Camilo explained.

  Iker's lips gaped further. "... how is that possible? When Ember soldiers came to look for child soldiers, neither of us tested positive for flux receptiveness."

  "Even though you do have memories of that happening... it's possible it never happened," Camilo said. "It's also possible it still did."

  "I... I... weirdly enough I believe you. I feel crazy saying that," Iker said. "Call me crazy, but Bastian came back from the future. How much do you know about this crazy shit that's happening?"

  "... who's Bastian?" Camilo asked, making Iker finally closing his mouth from shock a mere vacillation. "That sounds like concussion babble to me. There are no such thing as time travelers, however the army has espers that toy with our memories."

  "But... but..."

  Iker was sure that... Bolsa Mágica in its own way was real. Bastian was definitely real too. It was all realer than a concussion dream, but less real than a reality.

  "I need to find you a doctor," Camilo interrupted, shushing Iker's further stammers into madness. "However, there's a reason I carried you all the way here while you were down and out. It's important."

  4 YEARS EARLIER...

  DENVER, COLORADO

  Lost silhouettes of three children miraculously could be spotted within the hues of the sunset sheening over the church with the imposed upon open ceiling and ruptured entrance. By fortune the sunlight veiling the trio with light shadows came in all the warm colors a human mind could conceive of. At this hour of the evening the neon circle on the fallen city's horizon usually could only muster up a dimming light through the dense smog.

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  "I know where we are," Fatima Tagore said triumphantly after the climb across the debris, the only one among the children that would get in trouble for being this far out from Pueblo. She wore a hijab Iker had never seen her wear before, the embossed circles glistening in the red, yellow, orange, purple, and pink lights dancing around them, some of it reflecting off of the crushed stained glass on the white marble floor. All the ten-year-old children regrouped when Camilo and Iker made it past the debris.

  "... so tell us?" Camilo said.

  "Uhm..." Fatima murmured while blushing.

  "This was the International Church of Cannabis. Ameen probably came by a long time and blew it up," Iker explained while examining the stained glass.

  "Oh yeah. Look!" Camilo directed while sprinting towards the remnants of the walls. His capricious excitement was contagious and Fatima and Iker had to chase after him. It became apparent that Camilo was running towards what remained of the roof of the church, which were nearby toppled pews.

  As to whether the rare kind of sunlight made the chunk of ceiling fresco look more otherworldly was uncertain, but it did make Iker stop in awe. The overlapping hands and eyes dancing in the painted sky, some looking more solid and others looking like afterimages, formed shapes of wheels and angels.

  "Those are seraphim and thrones," Camilo said.

  "Yes, but they are also God," Iker added.

  "No Iker, those are his angels," Fatima said.

  "If you look at it carefully, the seraphim and thrones are the limbs of a four-dimensional human," Iker said. "God is whoever was writing the particular part of the text you are reading at the time. Think of it as if a human being was in the place of Cthulhu or Azathoth... a form the human could take would be being a bunch of thrones and seraphim. The writer is the past, present and future of their imagination. Whatever the writer creates in his mind cannot be created or destroyed unless they will it to do so. The writer is the alpha and the omega of the universe they conceive of in their heads."

  "Stop!" Camilo yelled at Iker, stopping himself from admiring the fresco. "You can't say that around Alkrezians."

  Iker glanced at Fatima to find her trying to mentally digest what Iker just said. Or perhaps...

  "Hey... you know neither of us reads those twenty-first century books you like to read right?" Fatima said.

  "The elder gods were in stories long before the twenty-first century," Iker corrected.

  "The Bible, the Quran, the Aulasy... they are not just fiction stories Iker. What you're saying is untrue," Camilo said.

  "No, they are science fiction books! Science fiction and religion is the same genre. None of it literally happened, like... Olamina never existed," Iker added.

  "Actually, Olamina did exist," Fatima said.

  "No... Parable of the Sower was first published as a science fiction story in the twentieth century. People nowadays mistakenly thought that it happened literally just like they did with the Bible," Iker explained.

  "I've had enough of this," Camilo said. "Just... don't repeat this shit again okay? You're going to get hurt."

  Iker finally took a pause to breathe, and he locked eyes with Camilo. He then raised an eyebrow.

  "Since when did you care if I get hurt or not?"

  "Camilo, did we go to Denver?"

  "Yes. I have a memory of that."

  "See? Maybe that makes it more likely that it did happen."

  Whatever amalgamations of hologram, flesh, and metal passed through Iker's home demolished it with no mercy. All that remained was the open basement, the torn wooden floors of the first floor reminding him of the torn roof in that church they came across in Denver. They reached the edge of the floor... and there was the strange tree again. The same kind of tree he saw in Bolsa Mágica.

  "Camilo... I have seen that tree before... or I don't know if it's multiple trees but I've seen it," Iker said.

  "Of course you have," Camilo replied. "It's the earthplexus tree. The Prunus Tantalum. How do you not know it's name?"

  "Am I supposed to know what it is?" Iker asked.

  "Yes Iker," Camilo responded.

  "Your father invented the earthplexus Iker."