Trailing through the red maroon as the opaline sand clouds behind a black turbo-charged 4084 Carnivor X3. The dimed star loomed over the deprecated wasteland illuminating streams of black soot that lined the scalding black glass dunes peak the landscape like obsidian thorns on the rusty oxidized stems. The Gangrene hitters drove 150 km from the city of Nuwa and hooked right driving unto an elevated escapement overlooking an acidic greenish yellow cutbank that led back to the indistinguishable hazed city in the horizon dividing the orange mustard sky. The mercenaries got out of the car and opened the truck that revealed a hogtied individual with dark green hair and a lean muscular physique that housed two prosthetic tungsten hands and a titanium spine. The first merc grabbed the legs of the unconscious body and the other grabbed hold of the head lifting him out of the trunk and carrying him to the edge of the cliff. They dropped him on the floor and they jolted out of unconsciousness. The mercs drew their Sig Sauers and pointed it at the guy. “Last time you messed with the Gangrenes, asshole.”
The guy looks behind themself at the acidic soup that bubbled and swirled at his peril. The men let out their rounds and the guy jumped and grabbed hold of a branch and climbed down under the cliff hiding from the mercs that loomed over in surety of his demise. They heard them slamming the trunk, getting into the vehicle and driving off. The guy climbed back up the crumbling rocks and saw the only car in the desert speeding off into the distance. “Wow Ryne, you really did it this time.” They said rubbing his face into his scalp and looking at his surroundings. They took off his shirt and wrapped their head into a balaclava and started to walk in the direction the men left in. After hours of walking in the dreaded sun, Ryne came across the red marbled hoodoos 20 feet tall spanning all around, covering the pathway and the horizon was no longer in sight. The thick smoky atmosphere clouded his vision and engulfed their lungs. Ryne walked and weaved between the rock formations and came across a small pond with a hut at the other end of it. The water was bright blue which was unusual given that they live on the Republic of Mars. Water has been sold commercially but where it is extracted from is anyone’s guess but this place was out of a lucid boundary between dream and nightmare. Reality seemed nonsensical and perceptual but this. This was manna to Ryne and so they jumped into the water and cleansed themself of soot and dirt. Ryne let out a big sigh and realized the air was not slightly burning their chest. It was crisp and the base of the rocks were granite and bits of quartz.
A bahitawi emerged from the hut wearing an orange robe and a brown engraved staff. She placed it at her side and bowed to the pond and chanted in Ge’ez, “Besa ema’ Welete Atete!” followed by more incantations. Ryne ran and then swam through the pond frolicking their limbs at the excitement of the only person they’ve seen in hours. The bahitawi stood at the foot of the pond as her white locks draped behind on the white sand like a mimetic serpent toiling beneath the surface. The monk stared at Ryne as if they were expecting their arrival. Ryne dragged their body onto the shore and dropped into the sand, “This can’t be real.” The monk folded her hands, “lucidity is nothing but a reflection back of our collective consciousness. We experience, we dream, we act, we meet disappointment or success, the cycle continues.”
Ryne got up and walked over to the firepit and picked up a piece of warm charcoal from it. They moved it around in their palms in disbelief as the black chalk concealed their fingers and burnt their index. “So you’re saying reality is perceptive? You seem to have experienced disappointment. Make my day.”
The bahitawi filled her calabash from the pond and took a swish of it in her mouth and spit it at the empty firepit as it burst into a ball of inferno. The flames sent Ryne on their back as they jumped in shock. The monk belted out in laughter, “Perception for humans is the experience of cat and mouse rather than a correlation of cause and effect between humans. We go through the toil and resultation of our ancestors. Bitter for everyone except some who have honey in their cerasee. There are very few who will pour out their bitters to taste the same experience.”
They started to cough up blood into their hand holding a wisdom tooth. Ryne looked up at the bahitawi remembering that they drank the water, “Am I going to die?”
The monk picked up the incandescent charcoal as Ryne looked on, “Sometimes the ideals of good and bad are shrouded in beneficiality and demise. I found out the hard way drinking this very water. What looks appealing isn’t always good for you and sometimes the hardest organically drawn experiences educate us in the process.” The monk took the burnt red clay rock by the fire and broke it in half with her staff. A ivory-like creamy liquid oozed from it with a pungent smell that resembled rotten eggs and the acid lake. She held it up to their face to drink from the liquid and Ryne winced in fear, “Euuukhhhh. Fuck that shit.”
“Then you will die today. Dimensions are multifaceted.”
“Fuck it.” Ryne held their nose and drank the viscous liquid. It tasted like a mango and dragonfruit hybrid and they relished in their taste buds as it sent them into a wormhole of reduplicated textures. They accidently swallowed the seed of this mysterious fruit and the monk disappeared. Everything felt like it was in its right place and then Ryne’s stomach began to grumble with every turn. Ryne held their stomach as it grew. A tree tore them open and began to rapidly grow. They were now completely engulfed by the tree in the middle of the hoodoos as its roots entangled and bound itself to the soil and pulled the toxicity out of the pond and the lake and the air on the planet. Its roots came back to haunt the city no matter how hard the authorities tried to tear it down. Ryne was the last catalyst that was needed to add to that purpose of growth. Years came and went and the tree was as tall as the clouds and the rock formations around it were low and wide enough to venture through. A bed of moss and leaves covered the ground as an older person with dark green hair and frail frame wearing an orange robe came to the Great Tree and sat at its base, “Hey ‘Ren. It’s your daughter. Long time no see.”
