Author’s note: I use an experimental neo-pronoun system in this chapter.

* zei = pronounced like “zay”

* en = pronounced as “en”

* huir = pronounced like “hear”

In the year’s spring 3077, a giant web of black tendrils with millions of blinking eyes covered the sky above the grassy sea plains, yet no one saw it. Not a single of the tens of millions of residents in the Realm noticed.

Meanwhile, Zeijien had forgotten that it had ever been a zei.

It had forgotten these plains. It knew they had a name, but like everything else, it had slipped away. Just calling it the “Realm” would have to suffice.

The view Zeijien gazed upon from above meant nothing to it. Not the giant, grassy esplanade, nor the sea that would cover it when the tide was high. Not the seven giant islands emerging from portals, nor the tiny ones dotting the plains. Certainly not the tiny residents who looked like dots moving between and within the islands. It was like staring into a miniature diorama through an ugly, vaguely star-shaped glass bowl. Except Zeijien wasn’t merely looking in from the outside. It was inside the very wall of this bowl, trapped here in this liminal space; that much was clear.

Despite that, Zeijien was quite comfortable here. And so it fondly called its new home the “Liminality Bowl.” It felt like it was living between two unbreakable panes of cosmic jelly where it could float around as seamlessly as a fish in an aquarium. It wondered why it felt so eager to cover more of the bowl with its eyes. Its main body was rather small: just a set of nebulous black rings, each with small eyes, encircling a black hole with a single large eye at its center. The rings splayed off into wing-like tendrils, but they stretched far beyond its body. They became the giant tendrilic web that covered the entire bowl. Zeijien was a part of this giant web, to its chagrin.

New days brought on new eyes. A tendril would grow incrementally, and so another set of several eyes would form. Mysteriously, there was one spot on the Bowl that its tendrils gravitated towards in particular. Layers upon layers had accumulated over the years. It had no control over this, so it thought, and so it had learned to ignore it.

Like an unsolicited guardian, Zeijien watched over the Realm, only able to see from either a high vantage point or one far away from the islands at the bottom edges.

However, it was at the bottom edges where the Bowl met the grassy ground that Zeijien found it most fascinating. There, it could see the occasional resident who had strayed to the edge of the Realm. Something about these beings was familiar, but this only manifested as a mere curiosity. Its eyes would follow their movements. Kids of different species might punch the bowl’s wall for fun. Secretive gangs of shapeshifters might camp out by the edge to be as far away from the islands as possible. When the tide was in, boaters might fish around here. Zeijien’s eyes could be right in front of them, and they wouldn’t even notice.

Watching the beings wasn’t just fascinating. It was almost… enviable. But it would finally understand why on one fateful night.

♦  ♦  ♦

A group of cultists roamed the edges of the Realm in the dead of night, a master and his apprentice in the lead. They gravitated toward the spot on the Bowl Zeijien had been ignoring. They didn’t see the giant mass of tendrils covered in eyes, but they clearly noticed something.

Fascinated, wondering if, perhaps, they could answer the question of why its tendrils were so biased toward this spot, Zeijien sent its primary body to observe these hooded figures in gray and white robes. It appeared the older ones wore longer ones, denoting their rank, while the younger ones wore shorter ones.

The master lowered his hood, revealing a face that was arguably not a face at all. Several sight seals had replaced his skin—bands of light with written symbols, or letters, perhaps. They coiled endlessly in some cosmic monstrosity. He had no eyes, nose, mouth, or ears. The only thing that remained person-like on his head was his long, white hair and magnificent long white beard, but even those seemed to emit a light of their own. He turned to his apprentice, beckoning him closer. Meanwhile, the other cultists stood in a half-circle formation, their backs to the two primary figures.

“Do you know why we chose this spot?” the master asked his nervous apprentice.

The apprentice carefully lowered his hood, partially revealing his scaly, dark, bluish-gray face. White bandages covered his eyes, but to Zeijien, he appeared to be one of the rarer species in the Realm. His mouth jutted out into a narrower point than most of the other humanoids, not to mention that it looked like it could open four ways. His arms were almost twice as long as a common humanoid creature’s, and his feet were not even feet—they were more like stubs split in two, a bit like crab legs shaped like hooves. Despite his rare appearance, he seemed to follow most of the communication mannerisms and emotional displays of the residents who’d ventured to the edge before.

Something about him was more familiar than anyone else Zeijien had seen so far. Its tendrils shuddered, and all of its eyes blinked in a wave formation. A fragment of a memory seemed to return—a piece of a familiar classroom, but it soon vanished as the apprentice spoke.

“I—I don’t think so, Iminon…” he answered his master, timidly.

“What is your newly awakened Sight for if not to figure that out for yourself?” the Iminon chided.

“Yes! Iminon. Sorry, Iminon. I will use what you taught me.” He readied himself. Shook the tension out of his skinny arms and rolled his neck, which looked barely strong enough to hold up his head. After a few deep breaths, he finally went completely still and silent. Then, a tiny ball grew from a speck in front of him. It crackled and spun chaotically, then out flew a couple of seal-covered bands of his own, light purple and far less whelming. They encircled his head like a couple of rings and spun slowly.

To Zeijien, it looked like he was just standing there. But apparently, he saw something through those bandages and floating purple bands nobody else did because he nodded and said, “I can see a weakness in the Bubble, Iminon.” Apparently, the Bowl was “the Bubble” to these people. “Are you saying this spot will make it easier to create a portal into the Wavelength Realm?” He pointed directly at Zeijien’s mass of tendrils.

“Exactly,” said the Iminon. “So, you have been paying attention.”

“But why the Bubble?”

“Think, boy. What do you know about the Bubble?”

“Well, it’s considered a liminal space, right? No one can pass through it. And if they could, it’s suspected they’d be ‘unmade.’”

“And what do you think you can do with a liminal space?”

“You can create an easy-access point into the Wave Realm. Or any dimension, in theory, I think...”

“Yes. Perfect. You see, everyone knows the liminality exists everywhere. However, stabilizing it enough to open portals to other dimensions takes immense power that most people simply don’t have. That’s why a weakness that already exists in the Liminality is the perfect opportunity for you to know how it feels to open a rift into the Wave Realm.”

“But—I mean, with all due respect, Iminon, what if I accidentally break the Bubble and this entire Realm is destroyed?”

The Iminon laughed. It was a long, creaky, diabolical-sounding cackle that sent shivers through the apprentice. “You? You puny thing? Destroy the Bubble? I should see you convince the Lingrek to speak a single word first, before even considering that.”

The apprentice gulped.

When there was nothing more to say, the Iminon lifted his arms, directing his hands at Zeijien’s mass of tendrils. “Now, then. As we have practiced. Follow my wavelengths first, then the rest is up to you.”

Zeijien blinked with its many eyes at the same time. What was even happening? But then, an unmistakable feeling emanated from deep within its mass. It felt off, like tectonic plates had shifted—no, more like gravity itself had changed.

♦  ♦  ♦

The Iminon’s sight seals suddenly froze in place, and the world pulsed around him. The radius of grass around his feet bent away from him, his invisible surrounding force larger than he. But to the apprentice, his force looked like a vast array of glowing strands of all lengths, widths, and colors, all squiggling and pulsing with vivacious life. It was his wavelength aura. It wasn’t even the full extent of his power; the apprentice knew that, and yet he stepped back as this force was more than enough to freeze him in awe. Even the other robed figures standing steadfast in their half-circle couldn’t help but shiver.

The Iminon said, “You mustn’t forget that we are not like the senergians. Our power must be kept in check. Don’t let your talent supersede your judgment. This is why you must practice every day without fail. You are the only other one who’s demonstrated you can handle a direct connection to the Wave Realm, and so you are valuable. To me.” He gazed upon the apprentice, the seals on his face morphing into outlines of gentle eyes.

The apprentice looked back at him—rather, at his silhouette surrounded by the intense aura, which he couldn’t see and yet could see in the wavelength aura channel of his mind. He watched in awe the Iminon who’d amassed hundreds, if not thousands, of loving eyes. The father who’d taken him in when everyone else had left.

The surrounding air pulsed again. The surrounding wavelengths vibrated. Now, the sky was like water, and the stars rippled like reflections with each pulse. A small, void-like rift grew from an oval speck on the wall of the Bubble. To the naked eye, it looked like it was floating in thin air. He continued to grow it for several heartbeats until he relinquished his position to the apprentice.

The apprentice knew exactly what to do. Replaced the Iminon in the exact spot he’d been standing. He reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out a silver blade; his lucky blade for these occasions. He curled his hand around it until the veins popped out from his scaly, blue-gray hands. Unlike most senergetic spells, he couldn’t simply thread together a portal using existing wavelengths. This could easily untether his mind should he use enough power to no longer sense his body. He needed the sting of the blade while his consciousness flew out of him and forced its way into the rift just in front of him. His consciousness took the form of wavelengths, too. The strands were sparser, much less vibrant than the Iminon’s, but they sufficed. He continued the Iminon’s work, and the rift grew in microscopic increments, slowly becoming a portal into the Wave Realm.

As the rift grew, the world around him began to glitch and wobble. A deep nausea began in his gut, slowly rising to his throat. Not now. You can’t lose yourself now, he thought. At least feeling the pain meant he was still in his body.

The Iminon spoke to the apprentice, his voice like a tether. “What do you believe fate is, boy?” he asked.

The apprentice maintained concentration, trying to focus only on the Iminon’s voice and the rift in front of him. He answered in a strained voice, “Isn’t it everything that’s meant to happen? Meant to be?”

The Iminon chuckled. Again, no emotion. “And how much do you think we control it?”

The apprentice didn’t answer this time. He couldn’t. The rift resisted, now. Not a surprise, since bringing stability to something so chaotic was something only far grander forces could bring on. The nausea was subsiding, but not in a good way. Now that he began to slip away, he gouged the blade into his hand, blood dripping quicker and quicker in tandem with his own rising heartbeat. The pain brought him back into reality for just a moment, but then he was quickly untethered again. He tried to concentrate on something. Anything.

Just when he thought he would need to cease, the Iminon’s voice pierced through the thick layers of wavelengths clouding his consciousness. “Long have I regretted, but with those who have gained everything from their crimes, regret does not linger for long, for they now have the power to change their fate. That is the funny thing about fate. It is always decided by those with the power to do so. Do you have the power to do so? That is the real question.”

Those with the power to do so. Those who were not the apprentice. Those who’d so cruelly ripped his own fate away from him—the fate he wanted to choose. They constructed themselves in his mind. They took physical forms. They took over him. It started when parts of him began to glitch and morph—little areas like windows into other universes showing potentials of what he could be. What he longed to be. Black hair replaced his own wavy, dark brown hair, grew long, then short again. He could taste honey on his lips, then burning spice, then sourness. His body became taller for brief moments and shorter in others.

It was the Wavelength Realm; he knew. It had finally appeared. Opening a portal was mind-bending enough, but going into the Wavelength Realm always made someone lose their sense of self. He’d let the Iminon’s words get to him, and now he was unraveling. He was now becoming zei but in the purest sense.

Zei, a mere pronoun common in everyday speech, and yet zei felt more connected to it than ever—its lack of specificity and yet its embrace of everyone and everything granted a sentience.

Zei, the gender or the lack of one, while his—no huir breasts would grow, huir hips would widen, and then all retract, oscillating rapidly between each instance in the sea of glitching.

Zei, the person, or perhaps not, while parts of him—parts of en turned into animal tails, feathers, scales, and slime. Into vessels of porcelain, water vapor, wires, and frozen grass.

Zei, the topic from huir 10th grade linguistic history class. For a moment, zei was back to huir seat at the desk near the window. The pronoun zei, once belonged to one of the edrienic languages, the teacher had explained. It was already attached to no gender, occupation, or hierarchical status. And since the edrienai were one of the first species to set foot in the Central Realm, it was easily co-opted into the universal language of Sooted Star. While it isn’t perfect and is blind to cultural differences, it has still become a symbolic term. I quote from the Central Realm Constitution: ‘All shall be Zei. All shall be equal and accommodated under the Central Realm’s Bubble.’ The apprentice recalled turning to huir friend, a boy with black hair, whose features zei couldn’t remember clearly. The boy said in a distorted voice, See? The great equalizer. Just like us.

That boy. The apprentice hadn’t expected that boy to show up in the rift. Though the boy’s face etched away to unrecognizability, the apprentice knew exactly who it was. The boy whose hands the apprentice could still feel in huir own hands as warm as the summer they met for the last time under the school’s drooping yellow cantreth tree.

That boy. Zei was the last one who took everything away. And now zei took over the apprentice’s mind. Every wavelength that connected the apprentice to whatever sense of reality zei had left began to shake and buzz violently. Parts of that boy’s face assumed shape and color. The apprentice’s face assumed the same attributes. An icy, iridescent eye. A stronger jaw. Thinner lips. The name rang in huir head—Haecadien. Haecadien.

No. No. It had become too specific now. The apprentice felt numb all over. The blade in huir hand no longer tethered en. Zei could hear the Iminon yell something, but it sounded muddled under the thick layer of wavelengths whirling around en like a tornado.

Zei was about to break. One by one, the wavelengths between huir body and consciousness snapped, faster and faster, until they ripped in rapid succession. Zei wanted to scream, but no longer had a body to do it. Everything zei had become was a fragmented mess of other universes, particles, and beings.

As soon as zei was down to half huir wavelengths, everything suddenly paused, like time had ceased to exist. The wavelengths around en stopped whirling and squiggling. The portal no longer broke everything around it. Then, like a lifeline, a new tether appeared before en. It was too blurry for en to make out what it was, except that it was black, with millions of tendrils. But something about it calmed en down.

It spoke in a voice of a million voices in seemingly all frequencies. It said: You’ve done enough.

The apprentice blinked with one eye in one reality and the second eye in another. Zei comprehended this as enself, somehow. As zei tried to make sense of it, Iminon’s wavelengths suddenly latched onto huirs. Zei was ripped back into reality—back into huir body as it collapsed to the ground, puking and wheezing. The apprentice was finally home.

Zei was lying in the grass, barely conscious as zei heard the Iminon yell to the other robed senergians. Saw their wavelength auras as they all crowded around the spot where the portal had opened and lent their wavelengths.

“Something is taking control of the portal, Iminon!” one of them said.

With a booming, yet level voice, the Iminon ordered. “Then we must take it back.”

As the apprentice slowly faded out, the portal surged. Strange new wavelengths poured out of it—powerful ones of all sorts that the apprentice had never seen before. Zei heard the senergians scream as the unknown wavelengths possessed some of them. They transformed one by one, and then zei lost consciousness.

♦  ♦  ♦

Zeijien suddenly remembered why so many of its tendrils had gathered in this one spot on the Liminality Bowl—or the Bubble, as it were. It remembered how many years it remained prisoner here. Seven, precisely. It remembered the seven islands inside the Bubble and the resident species that thrived there.

It remembered that it had once been one of them. Once a zei.

Zei, once a part of a home, as the portal slowly opened and the desire to return there suddenly rushed in like a great gust of wind.

Zei, the friends it found, and the enemies it had tried not to make, as memories of them poured back into huir mind, and their faces took shape out of huir millions of eyes.

Zei, the origin, as the years rolled back, back, and back. Huir tendrils receded as the seasons played in reverse into days, weeks, months, then years. Into clear skies, clouds, storms, and tides. And at the very beginning, zei saw—

Zei, the one Zeijien had to find; the man with the black hair and pale, iridescent eyes, watching with horror as everything went wrong that day. The one who made Zeijien belong.

And belong, once again, zei would.

Once the portal became viable, zei took hold of it. Huir tendrils writhed and fought to create a small opening. Zei didn’t see wavelengths as the senergians did, but zei felt some kind of fabric of the universe, like it was already a part of en. Zei could feel the fabric shift, particularly around the portal. Zei felt the pressure mounting as the apprentice attempted to control the portal with meager power. Would it hold? Zei feared zei would need to do this quickly.

With all of huir energy, Zeijien retracted all of huir tendrils at once. At lightning speed, they disappeared into huir main body. All of huir eyes turned from nebulaic colors to black as zei collected all the energy zei could. It was everything zei had been saving over the years, and now zei could finally use it earlier than expected, thanks to these robed senergians.

Zei had expected to create a tiny off-trail in the portal’s gap in the Bubble, then slither back into the Central Realm. No one had to notice. Zei pushed the portal just enough so zei could slip through in the right direction. Zei was about to exit when zei looked back at the fragmenting apprentice. Zei hesitated at first. It wasn’t anyone zei knew, zei didn’t think. Whatever that classroom memory was must’ve been a fluke.

Zei had been waiting for so long to get out of here. And yet, zei couldn’t just leave the apprentice to shatter into oblivion. Zei approached the apprentice. Watched as this person became… not a person.

Zei spread huir tendrils once more. Not as far as the entire Bubble, but still far beyond huir body. With a surge of energy, zei paused the portal. Zei severed the wavelength connection between the apprentice and the portal. Zeijien’s tendrils shuddered. Some of huir eyes shut forever. Parts of en became transparent and glitchy. Hang in there, zei thought.

When zei saw the apprentice was still conscious, zei was overjoyed. Zei said, reassuringly, “It’s okay, now. You’ve done enough.”

When all had settled, zei could finally leave the Bubble.

Or so zei thought.

Another presence had already latched onto the portal. It must’ve been the Iminon, because this power felt leagues stronger than the apprentice’s. Zeijien had lingered too long. Now, the Iminon’s power was taking control.

Zeijien latched back onto it. Zei spread more of huir tendrils, but more parts of it were glitching out of existence. Zei hadn’t planned to use this much power. Apparently, hitching a ride out of here too much to ask.

With everything zei had, zei fought the Iminon’s power. Thankfully, the mere presence of this immense power was enough to feed huirs, so zei didn’t have to disappear more of enself. It was something zei could never explain, but that wasn’t important right now.

The portal wavered. Crackled. Crunched. It couldn’t decide where to go with two different wills pressing it every which way. Wavelength Realm, or home.

Zeijien desperately searched for an answer with all of its eyes. Something in its tendrilic gut was screaming at en that this couldn’t continue. Unfathomable entities were growing from the contradictions in the portal’s chaos. They attached to the weaker senergians, cracking them. Zeijien didn’t know what they were, but zei could tell they wanted nothing more than destruction, if they had desires at all.

As Zeijien searched, it was already too late.

One unfathomable being spawned from the body of one senergian. Its ugly, geometric, goopy, sgorkling head broke out of the senergian’s spine. Well, the “head” might’ve been an arm or three, actually, not that it mattered. The transformation would’ve left a bloody mess in its wake if not for the blood itself transforming into random limbs. So many limbs. They broke out of every part of the senergian’s body, geometric and squishy all at the same time. Soon after, more spawned from a couple other senergians. Zei could see the remaining intact senergians breaking out of their formation, screaming as one chaotic monster snatched one of them up and ripped them in half.

Even the Iminon’s power seemed to waver in the presence of these things. Zeijien took the opportunity and surged with power one last time, directing everything at the portal.

The portal suddenly stabilized, snapping to attention like a soldier. Without hesitation, zei jumped through, praying that it led home.