After confirming that this world's Connor was improving with his own eyes, Charles immediately locked himself into his deceased counterpart's office. Now that the Omega was on the mend, then Charles should be going home soon.
He just needed to find that blasted amulet. And if he knew his counterpart as well as he thought, then the amulet should be right in...
He yanked open the desk drawer. Inside laid a few papers, a pistol (and what was the point in locking away a pistol) and the all important tell-tale glint of green that belied the amulet left by Those Who Came Before.
Charles reached in, grasped it and...
Nothing.
He blinked, a feeling of unease creeping through him.
He shook it, blew on it, tapped it, even tried praying to it.
Absolutely nothing.
The feeling of unease seized his body, and, legs weakened, he fell to his knees as his legs.
Nothing was happening.
His effort in the past few weeks, his killing of his counterpart, his relentless energy on helping this world's Connor improve...
Was it all for nothing?
It made him ill, thinking of it.
He had to return. He had to. His mentor was there. His son was there. His entire bloody life was there, and now he was stuck in this place that made no sense and...
No. He couldn't think that. There had to be a way to return.
There must be.
He was just missing something. Maybe this world's Connor needed to be fully awake. Maybe the child needed to be born. Maybe his counterpart needed a proper funeral.
It could be anything, but it had to be something.
Because the alternative was unthinkable. He wouldn't even consider it.
"It is one of your weaknesses, this stubbornness of yours. But it has served me well here, and I will not hold it against you."
Charles jumped to his feet and whirled about. He saw no one.
"Who are you?" he shouted. "Where are you?"
"I am no one that you know, but I am important to your being here, in the now, rather than dead in the ground."
He could still see no one.
"Show yourself!"
"There is little need to. My voice suffices for the time being. You need only listen to my instructions and--"
"--and I can return to my own world?" Charles felt hope grip his chest painfully. It was that spirit again, he knew it. And if she had come to offer him a way to return...
He'd take it.
"Alas, you have died in your own world. There is no way for you to return."
And the hope was crushed under the weight of her words.
Charles found it difficult to breathe for a moment, imagining never seeing his son again.
"You brought me here," he finally managed. "Surely, if you gave me back my life and sent me here, you may send me back."
The voice sounded truly regretful this time.
"That will not be possible. I could only bring you here because you are not dead here."
"I do not exist here at all" Charles protested.
"Yes, that is true. And that is why I am able to bring you new life in this world. This world does not recognize you. You are not of it. And so you did not die as you ought to have after such a grievous wound."
That made a sort of sense, though Charles was not sure how.
"But surely I am better now. I do not feel as if I am dying--"
"--you are not--"
"--and so you must return me! I have a son to raise. I have an Order to run."
"That is not possible."
"But why?" His voice cracked, raw and pain-filled as it was.
"You remain healthy only because I cause you to be in this world. In your own, your wounds would reform because that is how your body is supposed to exist in that world."
No. It wasn't...that couldn't be it.
Because that would mean...
"I am sorry, but you cannot return home. Your place is here now."
Finding Connor 28
Chapter 28
After confirming that this world's Connor was improving with his own eyes, Charles immediately locked himself into his deceased counterpart's office. Now that the Omega was on the mend, then Charles should be going home soon.
He just needed to find that blasted amulet. And if he knew his counterpart as well as he thought, then the amulet should be right in...
He yanked open the desk drawer. Inside laid a few papers, a pistol (and what was the point in locking away a pistol) and the all important tell-tale glint of green that belied the amulet left by Those Who Came Before.
Charles reached in, grasped it and...
Nothing.
He blinked, a feeling of unease creeping through him.
He shook it, blew on it, tapped it, even tried praying to it.
Absolutely nothing.
The feeling of unease seized his body, and, legs weakened, he fell to his knees as his legs.
Nothing was happening.
His effort in the past few weeks, his killing of his counterpart, his relentless energy on helping this world's Connor improve...
Was it all for nothing?
It made him ill, thinking of it.
He had to return. He had to. His mentor was there. His son was there. His entire bloody life was there, and now he was stuck in this place that made no sense and...
No. He couldn't think that. There had to be a way to return.
There must be.
He was just missing something. Maybe this world's Connor needed to be fully awake. Maybe the child needed to be born. Maybe his counterpart needed a proper funeral.
It could be anything, but it had to be something.
Because the alternative was unthinkable. He wouldn't even consider it.
"It is one of your weaknesses, this stubbornness of yours. But it has served me well here, and I will not hold it against you."
Charles jumped to his feet and whirled about. He saw no one.
"Who are you?" he shouted. "Where are you?"
"I am no one that you know, but I am important to your being here, in the now, rather than dead in the ground."
He could still see no one.
"Show yourself!"
"There is little need to. My voice suffices for the time being. You need only listen to my instructions and--"
"--and I can return to my own world?" Charles felt hope grip his chest painfully. It was that spirit again, he knew it. And if she had come to offer him a way to return...
He'd take it.
"Alas, you have died in your own world. There is no way for you to return."
And the hope was crushed under the weight of her words.
Charles found it difficult to breathe for a moment, imagining never seeing his son again.
"You brought me here," he finally managed. "Surely, if you gave me back my life and sent me here, you may send me back."
The voice sounded truly regretful this time.
"That will not be possible. I could only bring you here because you are not dead here."
"I do not exist here at all" Charles protested.
"Yes, that is true. And that is why I am able to bring you new life in this world. This world does not recognize you. You are not of it. And so you did not die as you ought to have after such a grievous wound."
That made a sort of sense, though Charles was not sure how.
"But surely I am better now. I do not feel as if I am dying--"
"--you are not--"
"--and so you must return me! I have a son to raise. I have an Order to run."
"That is not possible."
"But why?" His voice cracked, raw and pain-filled as it was.
"You remain healthy only because I cause you to be in this world. In your own, your wounds would reform because that is how your body is supposed to exist in that world."
No. It wasn't...that couldn't be it.
Because that would mean...
"I am sorry, but you cannot return home. Your place is here now."
He wanted to hear anything but.