Chapter 2: 2. Picked up by God

My eyes didn’t leave the paper. 

‘ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ɢᴀ-13, ɢᴇɴᴇꜱɪꜱ (ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ)’, I read.

It was that word again. Destruction. I wasn’t two- I knew what destruction meant. Destruction of Genesis. Genesis typically meant ‘origin’, or how things came into being. In biblical terms, it meant ‘in the beginning’, the story of Adam and Eve, and so on.

Earth. Earth was listed under parentheses next to Genesis, so the two words should have a connection to each other. Did the phrase mean ‘Origin of Earth’? Then why, I wondered, was it written next to GA-13? What did GA-13 mean?

There were no explanations. Destruction of Genesis? The sentence was phrased as if ‘Genesis’, whatever it was, was being destroyed. The origin was being destroyed. The origin of Earth?

‘Realm’. I didn’t know what ‘Realm’ meant. I really need to study more, don’t I? I turned the page again, to be greeted with something curious.

 

-ᴇɴᴛʀʏ 1245078. ᴘᴛ. 998 (ᴘʀᴇᴘᴀʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴇɴᴅ)

 

ʏᴀʏ! ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ, ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ! ᴏɴʟʏ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴄʟɪᴄᴋꜱ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ! ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛᴏɪʟᴇᴛꜱ, ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ, ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ! ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ: ɪ ʙᴇᴛ ᴀᴍᴀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴜᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴀᴄʜɪᴇᴠᴇᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴏɴ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ- ᴢᴇʀᴏ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀɪᴇꜱ! ʏᴇᴘ, ᴢᴇʀᴏ! ɪ ᴍᴇᴀɴ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ʜɪᴄᴄᴜᴘ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ‘ᴀʀᴋ’ ᴛʜɪɴɢ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴀᴍɴ ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴄᴀʀᴇꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ? ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍɪʟʟᴇɴɴɪᴀ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ʙᴇɪɴɢꜱ, ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀʟʟ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ᴍᴇꜱꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛɪɴʏ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ɪᴛ, ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴘʀɪᴄᴋꜱ.

ʙᴜᴛ ʟᴜᴄᴋɪʟʏ ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ-ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅɪᴅ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ ɪɴ ꜰᴀꜱʜɪᴏɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ꜱᴇᴠᴇʀᴀʟ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪᴇꜱ. ɪᴛ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ. ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱ! ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ꜰᴀᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ, ɪ’ᴍ ᴜꜱɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴇɴᴛʀʏ. ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏ ɪ’ᴍ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴏᴋᴀʏ. 

ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʀɪᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇɴ’ᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʙᴜɪʟᴛ. ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴꜱ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɢᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ꜱᴘᴀᴄᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴜʀʏ ᴏʀ ꜱᴏ! ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ɢᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅ. ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ!

ɪ ᴀᴍ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ ɪ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀʏ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʟᴄᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇᴄɪꜱɪᴏɴ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɪɴᴛᴀɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴘᴀᴄᴇ ɪꜱ ɪɴᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ- ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ, ɪ ɢᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟᴜᴄᴋʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ. ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ‘ʜᴏᴘᴇꜰᴜʟ ʜᴀʙɪᴛᴀᴛꜱ’ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʙᴜᴅɢᴇ, ᴏᴠᴇʀʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴇʀɢʏ ᴏʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠꜱ. ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ɢᴏᴛ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴡᴇᴅ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜱɪᴘʜᴏɴɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴇʀɢʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴄᴏʟʟɪᴅᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴛᴀʀ- ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴅᴅꜱ? ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ.

ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴀꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛ ʟɪꜰᴇ ʏᴇᴛ. ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ᴀɢᴇ ʏᴇᴛ, ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ. ɪᴛ’ꜱ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ꜱʜᴀᴍᴇ. ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ᴍɪʟʟᴇɴɴɪᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ! ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ꜱᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇ. ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ.

ᴘʀᴇᴘᴀʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ- ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴏʀ ꜱᴏ. ɪ’ᴍ ᴘʟᴀɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜ- ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜰᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ, ɪ’ᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴀꜱ ꜱᴏᴏɴ ᴀꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱɪʙʟᴇ. ɪ’ᴍ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘꜱᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴꜱ; ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴜʀᴏɴꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ꜱɪᴘʜᴏɴɪɴɢ ᴍᴀɴᴀ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ, ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇɴᴛꜱ ɢᴀɪɴ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍꜱᴇʟᴠᴇꜱ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ɪɴᴠᴀꜱɪᴏɴ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ. ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ. ᴀᴍᴀ ᴡᴀꜱ ʀɪɢʜᴛ. ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʙᴜɪʟᴅɪɴɢ ɪꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴄᴜᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ.

I looked at the cover of the book again. ‘Realm Observation and Care Journal’, was it? I touched over the words ‘World building’ with my hands, thinking some more. Was this a joke?

The apocalypse. I watched a movie with an apocalypse theme before. It was one of the few films we had back in the county. It was about a city filled to the brim with zombies. The entire movie was a destruction film, filled with hunger, infection, and death.

The writer had described the destruction as a ‘coming invasion’. An invasion of zombies? I thought to myself privately. Was this a joke?

The title wasn’t on the cover. I turned the book in my hand only to realize that the apparent title was on the back of the book- or rather, that was the cover of the book. I must have accidentally started reading from the back, I realized. That was why the entry number was so high.

The book must have been bound wrong, or something. No, wait. I tried to remember where I had seen a similar configuration before. It was in a comic book, I remembered, written in some sort of language I didn’t know. Maybe Arabian or Japanese? 

But this book wasn’t a comic. It was even written in English. I am best at Chinese - I am from China after all, but Grandma gave me a lot of English books so I was fluent in it. I could even speak a little French and Spanish.

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I turned the page over to read it properly from the beginning. I kept flipping the pages. Every single page except for the one at the end was written in some language I couldn’t understand. Maybe some sort of African character, or Arabic.

Apocalypse. The way the book described events made it sound as though he, or she, was very old. Very old, and not human. Someone who created Earth, who looked after it. Almost as if they were God. Care and Observation, I thought again. Destruction.

This could not be real.

I was only a kid, but even I knew that much. Zombies weren’t real, God wasn’t real either, nothing in this book could possibly be real. So it must be a story. A novel. Fiction.

I opened my backpack and placed the book inside. Perhaps I would be able to sell it. The book looked new, and I didn’t know the owner, so even if I used it to my advantage there should be no problem. The money would be helpful..

Even if the book wasn’t worth much, if I could exchange the thing for another book I knew the language of, I would still count it as a successful trade.

Right. The police station.

Grandma would tell me, “cha, an illegal child, you are,” She also told me, “a little girl should trust the police.” This advice might seem contradictory but it wasn’t.

Police stations were places that helped people, or so Grandma said. But it was always better to be prepared. You never knew what might happen.

My back felt a little heavier with the new weight inside it, but it didn’t matter. Where was the direction of the police station again? Sky-something police station, wasn’t it?

I took a step forward. It was then.

As if the sky had collapsed in on itself, I felt something tug at my belly button before spiriting me away. I took a breath, then I realized it didn’t help- rather, I felt like air was being sucked out of my lungs. My face felt like it was going to be ripped off.

Eight was a pretty young age to die, but Grandma always told me I was older than I looked. My face was wet- I had no idea what was happening.

It took a while until the world fell back into focus again. I opened my eyes.

I heard a sound. It sounded suspiciously like a curse word. It started with ‘duck’ or something similar but I wasn’t sure. I coughed and collapsed onto the floor, not being able to stand up. My legs felt like they were made of jelly. My head spun. I looked up at the ceiling to see a dim light covering the whole place. It was as if I was in a completely beige-colored, dim box.

I wasn’t alone. I looked up. My head stopped spinning.

“Oh! Interesting!” It was the person from before, I realized. Not appearing to be male or female, they stood there with their hands clasped together. An excited expression was on their face. For the first time, I noticed their eyes- they were a peculiar color, one I couldn’t grasp. Almost metallic, almost black but also not, it looked like all the colors of the world spun together. The eyes shone with interest.

“Why are you here, child? And where is my book?”

The book, I remembered, that made it sound like the writer was inhuman, an old being who watched the universe grow. The sub-title that had ‘Destruction’ written in it. Apocalypse. Invasion. Star Age. Religion. Magic.

And then, as if by magic, I had appeared in front of this person, almost as if I had teleported here. Magic. My eyes also started to sparkle.

It was a gamble. My life had been pretty useless up to this point anyway, I told myself. A rush of adrenaline filled my brain, making my head clear for a second. I titled my head carefully as I opened my mouth to speak.

“It’s here.” I answered. “I have it. I-” I hesitated. “I want something from you.”

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