“What the hell is this?” I muttered as our giant procession moved out into the parade route.

It was in the same location on all the screens. It was just a long yellow-brick road. Before, it had been nothing but wide-open grasslands. But now a low, knee-high fog had rolled in, obscuring the grass. The fog did not come onto the path, instead tapering off in a wispy line.

Lined up on either side of the road, standing in the fog, were now thousands of people. They were just standing there, facing us, unmoving. Thousands and thousands of them, about ten deep on each side.

It was people of all shapes and sizes, but they were all human or humanlike. Some were strangely thin, like Lexis, but others seemed much too wide. They stood, not frozen, but not saying a thing or talking to one another. The line went as far as I could see down the road. Adults, children, babies held in arms.

They all wore a strange but mostly uniform mix of rags and robes, all the same earthy brown color. Most of the rags appeared filthy, like they’d just been pulled from the dirt. The people, too, were a mess, their arms and legs grimy as if they’d just been dug up.

But the most distinctive features on everyone were the masks. Every person in the crowd, including the babies, wore an oversized, colorful mask. These were complete head coverings, round and bulbous, like bobbleheads obscuring their faces.

The people were pushed tight together, and this caused the masks to press against one another and in some cases turn, which caused them to angle to the side relative to the people wearing them, like multicolor sewing pins all trying to poke into the same hole.

The vibrant masks featured grotesqueries such as goblins, trolls, hobgoblins, demons, and more. These were large caricatures, making the faces more colorful, more comic than they truly were, like from Mardi Gras or Carnival, but much more sinister. There was no music, which added to the ominous mood.

I was reminded of the main dance floor on the Desperado Club. They, too, had just switched to similar monsters. What did it mean?

“Not a very lively crowd,” Donut muttered, looking about. “I hope they appreciate how we put all of this together in just ninety minutes.”

We were all now lined up, with us at the very end of the procession. Mongo, Rend, and the others on foot marched in front of us. Mongo was currently turned all around, waving his wings, shrieking up at Donut on the float. Below, Grigori rode atop Gonk and Rosetta was on the back of Onikuma.

Above, the featureless rectangularairship hovered. We never did give this thing a name. This was a troop transport we’d looted from the Reavers during Faction Wars. Once upon a time, they’d used an airship identical to this to drop a bunch of armored soldiers on the FUPA. The thing was similar to the now-destroyed Party Planner in that it hovered with the aid of drone-like fans. Donut made an angry scoff, seeing the airship didn’t have any decorations on it. The thing was technically part of Florin’s procession, but it hovered near the back, closer to our position.

“Mongo, no!” Donut shouted. Mongo was now turned toward the side of the road, feathers rustling, unsettled at the strange sight of the masked audience. “Leave them alone! Just . . . just ignore them!”

Below, Rend turned and looked up at me uncertainly. I nodded and then called, “Listen to Donut.”

Elle: You guys seeing this shit? These people are freaking me out.

Donut bounded to the top of our triangle-shaped flower display to look off into the distance. “It just goes on and on. I see the arena at the end. It’s huge! The weird people are lined up all the way. There’s so many!”

There was no sun or visible light source, and a dusky glow filled the area, but it left no shadows, which gave everything a surreal, not-real feeling, like we were standing in a painting.

Florin: Christ, guys. Suddenly I’m not so happy to be at the front. Have you examined one yet?

I focused on a small, child-sized person standing on the side of the road. I was pretty sure it was a girl, maybe about eight years old. This one had strangely long arms, and her dirty skin was bone white. She stood mostly rigid, not so much frozen but standing still like the pose one would take after being ordered to stop. As I watched, she swayed slightly. She raised a foot and scratched the side of her leg with a black shoe.

Donut returned to my shoulder. “They said these things aren’t going to attack, right? I have my Wall of Fire ready.”

“That’s what they say.”

The bright green mask on the girl featured a horrific goblin but with short tusks and a crooked nose. The oversized ears dangled on either side of the large mask. The whole guise appeared to be made of the same material as the now-removed tommy gun. I examined her.

A Horrible. Level X.

This is a non-combatant. She’s not really here because she no longer exists.

You take that mask off, and underneath it, you will find what some people call a Primal.

I don’t know what this child’s name was. Did she have dreams? Did she have friends? Siblings? A pet? What was her favorite food? Did she know what was about to happen?

If she had been allowed to live, who would she have become?

Did you know that if you take a cup of water, dump it into the Earth’s ocean, wait a few years, and then travel across the globe and take another cup of water from the opposite side, there would be thousands of molecules from your original cupful mixed in?

I’d like to think I had a name once like this little girl.

But that’s not true. I never had a name. I never had a natural physical form. I never had dreams or friends, not like her.

But I am her. And she is me.

This little girl is a memory from the Eulogist. We don’t even remember what she, or any of us, looked like. This is all that’s left. It’s an anonymous inkling, not even a photo or description, but a flash of a memory of what we once had before we ascended to post-physical form. All of these people you see. All of them. It’s just a small sample of what once was.

If I had been singular, would I have had a normal life? Would I have been one of those warriors fighting to end all conflict and discord? Or would I have sided with the Apothecary and just accepted what was?

Would I seek immortality without first answering that question “What happens next?”?

I am her, and she is me.

I am all of these people, and no matter what we do, there is no coming back from what we did.

“Carl,” Donut said after she also examined one of the creatures, “did you understand any of that?”

“I did, actually,” I said, looking about the crowd, a deep well of sadness filling me. “Not all of it, but I get it now.”

“Care to explain it?”

Prepare to m-m-m-move. The parade will start as soon as the pacemaker and his mount are in position.

“I think the AI itself is about to explain the important bits.”