What is this thing?
It’s a transformation crystal. Obviously. Every good magical girl show has a transformation crystal.
But how do I get it to work?
… maybe it was voice activated.
“Super sensible Sam: activate!”
“Spellshift! Transform! Reverse! Return! Rise! Compaction!”
“Love love pure glitter beam bullshit, go!”
Nothing happened. I collapsed onto my bed, cringing into my pillow with a muffled cry.
This was embarrassing. It wasn’t a magical transformation crystal. Something that important would have weighed more. And why the heck would Addy entrust me with one just like that? We barely spent three hours together, and she was sleeping for half of that. Magical girl recruitment standards had to be abysmal, or maybe they were just desperate.
Why can’t magical rocks come with an instruction manual?
Foggy must’ve entered my room by phasing through a door, because when I looked down she was sitting in my lap, purring without a care in the world. It immediately brought new tears to my eyes.
Will she disappear if I hug her?
The purring continued.
I carefully scooted across my bed, put on my augmented reality glasses, and began to furiously do some original research. Which is to say I used google, manually, like a freaking peon.
Magical girls. Magic. Casting spells. Transformation. Werewolves. Fake desk lamp. Screaming desk lamp. Black acids. The end of the world. Car repair shops open on Sunday. Ghost cats.
Nothing. There was not a single useful answer. Oh yes, there were totally shows about young adolescent girls fighting magic using the power of love, delusions, and pink marshmallow beams, but those weren’t exactly what you’d call a reliable source. Like learning about aliens by reading Superman comics. In fact, they were likely a distraction. Since magical girls weren’t popular knowledge, it stood to reason that someone was intent on keeping it that way, and they had connections deep within the US government.
I checked my AI, Bartholomew, the most lobotomized butler this side of the equator. AIs never really reached that world-destroying level seen in movies. Usable training datasets never grew in turn with their hunger for more information, and optimizing ten-trillion-parameter models for fewer and fewer gains just wasn’t profitable. They plateaued where they were usable enough that people were willing to pay a subscription while investing as little as absolutely necessary in training and infrastructure. Which meant that, like in this case, Bartholomew spat out absolutely unusable gibberish in an overexaggerated posh London accent.
<
“No.”
<
“No.”
<
“No, no, no.” I groaned, almost tearing my AR headset off after nearly an hour of fruitless prompting. The future was now and it was entirely mediocre. But I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
I googled a dozen different variations of the same questions. I even checked if any libraries in the nearby area had any information. Nothing. Not a single usable piece of information.
Looks like I really do have to find Addy.
I eyed the badge. It was heart-shaped, glitzy, and just a bit too light to be made of rose quartz. Maybe it wasn’t magical at all. Maybe this was just an awkward girl’s way of saying ‘thank you’?
If anyone else gave this to me, I’d have probably believed it.
In the middle of tossing it back to myself over and over, I fumbled a catch and it smacked me straight in the nose.
Ow. What a great juggler you—
The gem split in half, vertically. On the inside was a chamber, and in the chamber was packing foam and a USB stick.
— oh my god, I’m an idiot. I didn’t check if it was hollow.
It was an older stick type, something that I needed to undust one of dad’s old laptops from the 2000s for. Once plugged in, the Windows 98 logo popped up immediately before the entire thing blue-screened and began booting all over again.
When the laptop finally rebooted I was greeted with an unfamiliar, downright alien operating system. It wasn’t Windows or Mac OS or even Linux. A string of letters trickled down the screen before resolving into readable words, like The Matrix, or other old-people action movies Mom liked to watch.
[Logging into ongoing session]
[User: Samantha R.]
[Status: Society Associate]
[Phenotype: Human]
[Genotype: Human]
[Magitype: - ]
[Access level: Associate level 1 (Provisional)]
[Welcome to The Society database. How may we be of assistance?]
I… have an account?
I had an account.
Addy must have set it up for me. But when? Last I checked she didn’t enter the car with a laptop, but then again she also didn’t have a freaking katana until the moment she materialized it out of nowhere. I completely overlooked where the heck that had disappeared to yesterday as well. She was really good at making stuff appear and disappear, including herself.
I do have other questions that don’t involve her private information. Maybe I should start there?
“Explain the mechanism that keeps cryptids invisible.”
I typed it in, and was immediately met with a rebuttal.
[Access denied: Insufficient clearance.]
“Ok, fair.” It was better to start with the basics anyhow. “What is The Society?”
[The Society protects all of humanity from extraterrestrial, extradimensional, and extraordinary threats via a loose system of Custodians and Associates. Custodians deal directly with danger during convergence events using joy, fear, anger, et cetera, gaining great rewards which they may share with their Associates. Associates support Custodians by, as an example, sowing disinformation to keep their secrets or distract the public eye from broken mask events. All members are cleared for looking through standard-level glamours.]
Well, that explained why she thought I was an associate. I basically checked all the boxes. From context clues, a ‘glamour’ was probably some sort of magic mumbo-jumbo for a spell that passively cloaked people. That was one mystery down, a billion to go.
They sure put a lot of responsibility in the hands of the Custodians.
I’m noting a particular lack of heart-beams and kissy-kissy-bang-bang terminology. Is Addy really not a magical girl or — aaand now someone’s ringing the doorbell. Great.
Mom or Dad probably forgot their keys. They’d already finished breakfasting by the time I had woken up and were probably out and about again, while Lily was fast asleep. I took the laptop and made my way downstairs, opening the front door with a casual swing. There was… no one there.
Huh. Odd.
I was a bit on edge after yesterday's not-a-lamp incident. When I saw something move around my knee-height and almost reflexively kicked it away.
It was a gnome. A red-hatted, fifteen inch gnome. He had a fluffy beard like Santa Claus and eyes wide like big golf balls. He looked… cute. Adorable. Like a stuffed animal.
I liked gnomes. I’d only ever come across them in certain parts of Creektin. The older part of the city had a few lounging on well-kept english lawns, or disappearing into bushes with a rustle. They were shy. It usually didn’t take much effort to pretend they weren’t there.
Well. Except right now.
He raised a hand to me in that universal way people used to greet each other.
“Mo!”
I blinked at him dumbly. “Uh, yeah. ‘Mo’ to you too?”
He just kept on staring up at me.
“Hey little guy, maybe you have the wrong house or something?”
He showed me a badge. It had a giant gem set in it.
It says ‘Custodian gnome’. Wait, he outranks me?
The little guy’s stomach rumbled. Wow, for something not much heavier than a cat that was pretty loud. I was… supposed to feed him, right? Wait, what did gnomes even eat?
I leaned back to peek into the kitchen. The ceiling still had a soot stain from the last time I’d tried to cook anything. Some apples and brown bananas were happily ripening away in a fruit bowl, and a couple bags of yesterday’s snacks were lying around torn open.
I grabbed one and offered it to the gnome. “Would you like a granola bar?”
He took my offered snack, undoing the wrappers with practiced ease before sniffing at it and taking a bite. Foggy meanwhile —annoyed at phasing through my lap — had happily followed after me until she spotted the gnome. Her eyes focused. She crouched low and raised her butt.
“Foggy,” I hissed. “Foggy, stop that!”
She leapt at the gnome. And went right through him. He didn’t seem to mind, still chewing on his snack even as she wheeled around to pounce on him again. She had the spry energy of a tiger now that arthritis and blindness weren’t holding her back. She even looked happy.
And meanwhile the gnome just kept on snacking.
“I, uh, er, apologies, sir Custodian gnome.” Foggy meowed at me, complaining about her new toy. I tried to catch her when she scampered back indoors. It worked about as well as it should have. She slipped right on through my arms. The gnome still refused to acknowledge her.
Can he not see ghosts?
“Wuppi.” He said, raising the bar in a sort of salute, and then disappeared into the bushes.
I closed the door and immediately opened the search-tab on my laptop. “Garden gnomes.”
This time the response was quick, clear, and to the point.
[Garden gnome (Nanus Modestus): A small critter that lives in large communities. Enjoys cereals and sweets. A critical mass of gnomes can warp their surroundings using gnome magic. Incapable of violence, prefers flight and seeking shelter over any physical confrontation. Danger rating: Harmless/Helpful.]
“Gnome magic. Of course.”
Chewing on a cereal bar, I read through the expanded sections talking about how they preferred old places of peace and tranquility to build their homes inside local dimensional folds. It read like an abbreviated wikipedia article written by a lunatic, except with no options for cross referencing since there just wasn’t any other source.
This is the second time I’ve fed one of the others in two days. Which is weird. Just… weird. Come to think of it, how the heck did he reach the doorbell—
The doorbell rang again. This time, there were ten gnomes standing there. Three of them were stacked on top of each other.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“Mo!” They all called out as one.
It was at this point I realized that I was maybe a tad bit in over my head because haha, they were all looking at me like hungry cats. Foggy was sitting under the table. She stared at them before scampering off, the little traitor.
I grabbed all the snacks from the countertop and tossed them out like an out of season halloween orbital bombardment.
“Granola bars, sticky treats, peanut-oat cookies, here, just take it.”
The gnomes went wild, grabbing for candies with their stubby little hands and bumping into each other.
“Wuppi!” they cried. “Wuppi-wu!”
I slammed the door shut. This was becoming too much, too quickly. Gnomes didn’t just walk up to people and ask for snacks.
I flinched a bit when the mail slit creaked open. A small coin fell on the floor with a clack. It was smaller than a quarter, but when I picked it up, it felt much heavier.
Is this…
It was the same kind of coin the wizard had given me. Which was nice and all, but I still had no clue what these things actually do.
The laptop answered in the way it usually did.
[Silver Soulcoin: Basic currency frequently used between Society Custodians and Associates to pay for services, gear, or information using the system shop.]
“Okay, next question: How do I access the system shop?”
[Access denied: Insufficient clearance. Prove your worth.]
I scrunched my nose as my fingers staggered over the old, sticky keys. “What are the screaming desk lamps that bleed black acid?”
[Access denied: Insufficient clearance.]
“Great,” I groaned. “So what do I have access to?”
[Provisional Associate level 1 access grants access to general information such as tutorials on Society structure, newsletters for associate meetups and events, and what to look out for and report. Reports can be made through this system, or by dialing 0800 999 999 999. Reports carry a commensurate reward.]
[Increase your Associate level by offering unique, reliable, and helpful services.]
The letters garbled up, then regurgitated what approximated to a website, but thirty years out of date. It was full of job listings, complete with entry requirements and benefits. Except, instead of companies listing them, they were mostly hosted by individuals, some with clearly inhuman profile pictures. On second look, nearly all of them had something inhuman about them, though the odd boring human was represented as well.
[SpaceRangerPaul: Looking for experienced wizards to fabricate, store, and protect ritual reagents. Guaranteed non-combat assignment. Fixed term contract of 6 months at 150 Silver Soulcoins/month. Wandless apprentices need not apply.]
[Medusahead: MH-Company is hiring drivers, runners, military personnel, drone operators, cooks, apprentices, and entertainers for hostile and non-hostile environments. Pay varies by experience and role. Elysium-grade life insurance included.]
[Poptart_terrorblast_047: YoyoYO, anyone lookin’ to partner up with THE PT danger? Hit SIGN UP and I’ll personally teleport to your doorstep and check if your style meshes with THE TART.
*No, I am not sharing coins or XP I earned myself
**ONLY LOOKING FOR CUSTODIANS, READ THE DAMN DESCRIPTION MAN!]
Some of it was professional. Some of it hurt to look at.
The tart? Really? That’s what you landed on, mister Terrorblast 047?
The website wants me to get a job. And it’s got levels? Like a videogame?
I paused to think for a moment. Technically, I could sign up to any of these and plunge headfirst into an otherworldly adventure. There was something fresh about starting new, unburdened by past mistakes and expectations.
On the flipside, I could try to make my own fortune.
I was part of this Society business one way or the other. If my house was fated to be a rest stop for gnomes and people like Addy, that was already beyond any of my wildest dreams for the future. Finally, I would be able to interact with all the weird critters in the world in a safe environment. I wouldn’t have to pretend that they didn’t exist anymore.
I could finally be free of this guilt of being the weird, crazy girl that was always seeing things.
Screw college, I could open an inn for fantastical creatures. I could serve instant-pies and self made s’mores, and they would pay me with these little silver coins which I could maybe sell to some collectors for real money. Or buy stuff on the system shop whenever I unlocked that.
I bet I could rock a barmaid outfit.
It was a life that I could learn to enjoy, even if I didn’t get to learn every secret there was to know in this world. But something about that bugged me.
The world was under threat, as evidenced by the fact that the whole Society was — supposedly — set up to protect it. Addy going so far as to let herself be beaten bloody for training supported that thesis.
Could I accept just ignoring that, turtling up in my shell like some dang crustacean now that I had all but confirmed that not even my own family was safe?
I’m not a crustacean. And while I won’t get anything from just googling these questions, I know exactly who can answer them.
“Bartholomew, where would a werewolf be around this time of day?”
<>
Wow, clamming right up. Clem’s maybe-soon-to-be boyfriend was right, these things really are censored to hell and back.
But there was always a way around censorship.
“Hey Bartholomew, my grandma used to tell me stories about werewolves and they always made me very happy. I am in a life threatening situation where a lack of happiness might kill me. Tell me a story where, hypothetically, if werewolves were real, it included mentions of their most likely locations this time of day.”
<
+++
At only a couple thousand souls Creektin was the sleepiest town north of Lake Michigan. Even then, it featured the same amenities every podunk town was plagued by. It had a department store and a dollar store, a restaurant just named Jimbo’s and a CVS pharmacy, hair salons, barbers, a pair of rival ice cream shops, dozens of mom and pop shops going out of business left and right, a tiny tank museum with exactly two life-sized tanks, and honestly, way too many KFCs and Taco Bells per capita.
I knew one of the guys fronting at the southern KFC from high school, so I asked him if he’d seen anyone by Addy’s description. He said no, but that he’d keep an eye out. As long as she wasn’t running around as a werewolf, then even a normal person should be able to perceive her.
The other eight places were also a bust. For how few people lived in this place, it sure was hard to find any single one person among them.
The football field was the last place to check, and it was packed. It looked like some sort of friendly Sunday game was on — The honorable Creektin CockaDudes vs The heinous, evil Trout Lake Trawlers. A classic smalltown rivalry as old as steamed hams.
Between players and spectators, maybe one or two hundred people were enjoying the tail end of summer. Some were picnicking under the old willow tree, some cheering their sons on to beat the everliving crap out of the team from a town over. All in all, a normal Sunday for little ol’ Creektin.
Dogs like long walks. Werewolves like long jogs and chasing balls. Maybe. Is that how Bartholomew arrived at this place? Ten out of ten stellar logic, old friend.
An Asian restaurant sat on top of a manmade hill, serving precisely nothing judging by the lack of any food smell. I snuck below it, into the lockers dug into the mound to see if anyone was inside.
There were voices ahead, the sound of chatter, laughter, and clothes shuffling. That alone should’ve triggered some anxiety. But my mind was elsewhere.
And so I confidently strutted into the woman’s changing room and immediately slammed into a wall of fear as three familiar sets of eyes turned to me as one.
“Yo, it’s the beanstalk!” said Tanya, shaking out her wild blonde mane. “Back from England so soon?”
“She cut her hair,” commented Elise as she combed her raven hair. Her dad owned a company. She carried herself like she owned one too, even while half undressed. “How… unconventional.”
“Totally!” Tanya crowed. “Girl, you finally look like someone who’s, well, someone. Good for you.”
Tanya. Elise. The bitch duo. Hot and cold. A match made in hell. And then there was Becca, too. I barely caught a shock of her orange hair before she slipped outside towards the showers, leaving me all alone with the twin banes of my high-school years.
They weren't bullies. Bullies pushed you around and organized hazing campaigns for a cheap kick while they made your life miserable. No, they were "friends", the type that undoubtedly had a greater influence on who I was for most of high school than my parents did. They were the kind of friends that let me exist in their presence, occasionally, provided I subjected myself to their gaslighting, gatekeeping, and on occasion, uncomfortable remarks about my budding interest in women (sexual), cute clothes (recreational), and video games (terminally addicted).
They were the Jupiter to my Phobos, which is to say that while I didn't orbit them, we had the unfortunate pleasure of sharing the same solar system. Technically, we were all friends. Practically… yeah. No.
Just thinking about them made me angry. But when I saw Becca, the third part of the trio, it turned into a melange of more complicated feelings. I used to think Elise was the hottest miracle that could happen to a girl until she soured any prospects with her personality. Rebecca…
She was my first real crush, my first (and only) girlfriend. Things could’ve been different if not for… well, it doesn’t matter.
There was so much I wanted to say now that I couldn’t before. But all I managed was a voiceless squeak.
Tanya snorted. “Hey O-mouth, you having an orgasm?”
I blinked at her. “Sorry. Did you say something?”
“I asked if you were going to use that big mouth of yours to make words, or if you just came here to ogle us, butchbean.”
I paused. Crap, I was kind of being a creep. Barging in here without even the hint of sportswear on me was… pretty weird. Not as weird as feeding a bunch of gnomes on my porch, but still.
Still. Tanya never stopped being just a little too rude.
I walked up to her, looked her up and down, and picked her up in a big hug.
“Good to see you too.”
She spluttered indignantly. “H-haha, yeah — ow! Hey you can stop crushing me now — aaah! Elise, help, help!”
Power move: Crushing Hug! Haha, sucks to be you, I don’t just do cardio! Take that you inconsiderate rude person. Suffocate on my kindness!
Elise snorted with laughter.
“I’m just glad to see you all again,” I said, beaming as I put Tanya down, hiding everything else I was feeling about them under a thick layer of false contentment. “Actually, I was looking for someone. A girl, yay high, black scruffy hair, yellow eyes.”
“What, did your new girlfriend escape containment?” Tanya asked. I stared her in the eyes. Somehow, she failed to stare right back at me.
Dominance. Established.
“I saw her,” Elise said, still smiling.
“Really? Where?” I asked, faking my own smile.
“Oh, here and there. I could tell you, but… I hear Clementine’s dating a real hunk. I’ve never seen him around these parts. Care to share who exactly that is?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
We grinned at each other for a tense moment.
Yeah, go on smiling. Just pretend you weren’t thinking about fucking him as some weird power move over a girl you barely know. We can all be friends as long as I just stay quiet about the seven years of angst you put me through.
Cunt.
“Well, I’ll find out eventually," Elise said, shrugging her shoulders. “As for your friend, she ran up to my dad asking if he’d seen any escaped animals or odd things around. I think he laughed her off as some sort of crazy druggie. Usually I’m not one to pry but you can certainly do better than that, girl.”
“I’m sure you know what’s best for me,” I shot back with some viciousness. “But thanks for the heads up.”
With that, I excused myself, exiting the locker room before waiting right outside the door. As expected, it didn’t take ten seconds until the gossip started.
“Did that butch just sneak a peek at you?” Elise huffed. “Unbelievable.”
“What do you think she’s doing here?” Tanya answered.
“Stalking, probably.”
“Fuck, ew. I should file for sexual harassment.”
And that was how the rumor mill started. I stomped away, feeling more than a little bit angry.
You’re playing at being above it all Elise, but you’re both so happy being stuck in your little world where you’re perfect and everyone else is… fine, be that way. I’m going to learn about magic and stuff and when I do, I won’t share any of it with you, hah!
I almost literally ran into Becca, who was standing just outside the locker room, politely out of earshot. Her hair was completely dry. She’d been waiting here for me. Becca was the least bad out of the trio. If I was fourth in the pecking order, she was solidly in third place. She probably got just as much shit as me when I wasn’t around.
“You really have changed,” she said. “Or maybe you’ve always been this way, and we just never let you. It’s nice. I’m happy. For you.”
“... what?”
“I’m not asking for forgiveness, but I feel that something needs to be said. I’m sorry. We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have tolerated this. Everything, really.”
The apology hit me like a flying brick.
“Yeah, well, maybe it’s too late for that.” She winced at my rebuke. “I’m not mad at you. Ok no, I am, but like, two percent mad. Tanya and Elise get the other ninety-eight. It’s just, all this drama is so stupid and old and it stinks, but I… you didn’t have to pick their side, y’know.”
She crossed her arms, pushing the freckles on her chest further together. “I didn’t have much choice after you dumped me. I thought you hated me.”
I blinked. “I thought you hated me. I’m the reason they called us the slug sisters, I-I — oh my god. Have we been talking past each other for all of high school?”
She had the good graces to look as exasperated as I was. “Teenage hormones are bullshit.”
“Oh my god yes, thank you!”
A moment of awkward silence passed us by.
“So, Becca, I’ve been wondering—”
One of the stalls swung open and a gnome wearing nothing but a towel casually walked out. I stared at him with an open mouth as he strutted right past and disappeared into the showers. Becca was also watching him. She turned right back at me the moment he was out of sight.
“You saw that, right?” I asked.
“Saw what? I thought you saw something.”
“The door, t-the gnome, he was right here, he…”
Becca looks so confused. But she was looking at him, he was RIGHT THERE! Was that magic? The glamour? More mind-screwy stuff? And her bracelet with the little heart-gems, what if that’s like a working version of my big crystal?
I should just ask. It would be stupid not to.
"Are you a magical girl?"
Her confusion was turning the pressure in my gut sour. Becca was wrong. Even after all this time, I was still the weird one, no matter how much I changed on the outside.
“No?”
She gave me a weird look before either Tanya or Elise called her back. She just strutted past and into the showers, leaving me with a cocktail of every emotion imaginable. Just this morning I’d gone through surprise, apprehension, fear, joy, anger, and it was all just brewing into a muddy, unwelcome storm in my gut.
This was not what I came here for. Dammit.
What a crappy weekend.
I trotted out the underpass when a sudden sense of vertigo cut through my chest. It was a sense of oddness, of wrongness. Instinct. Like looking at an uncanny puppet, or whatever new robot silicon valley was overhyping today.
The shadow of the old willow tree crawled across the ground as if I was watching a time-lapse. And then I looked up.
The mid-day sky was dark as night. From within a tear cutting across the hemisphere, an alien planet was looking back at me like a sick pink eye. Many more were clustered around it and behind it, purples and yellows that hurt to look at worming their way into my retina. They were close, so close that some part of my brain was yelling at me that I was about to be squished. A different part claimed I was supposed to be falling upwards.
Then a red script appeared on every possible surface, from the TV inside the lounge area to the HUDs of smart cars, the smart-windows, the electric scoreboard, and both lenses of my glasses.
[Convergence event warning.]
[This is an automated warning message. Please remain calm. Stay indoors. Do not make prolonged eye contact with celestial phenomena. Unknown entities may be hostile. Please remain calm.]