Return Home- The Very Last

There is a knock at the door.

"One second."

I hear a female voice from the other side of the door quietly say "One." with a little audible smile, as I'm throwing on some clothes. I squint suspiciously and open the door. Standing before me is The Very Last. She wastes no time in jumping into my arms. I cannot help but stare, mouth agape, as this should be logically impossible. One path, the "face value" path, should find her nowhere near here today. The other path, our story together, should mean that our forms are incompatible, like matter and anti-matter, at least in my hometown. Still, I am no fool, and trust my senses.

"It's just like the dream!"

"Not quite."

Before I can respond she closes the gap. I carry her inside and let her down.

"How are you here?"

"Well, honestly, you could ask that of any of us, but I see why you asked it of me. Have you not noticed the systems in your area acting haywire? The internet going down, but you can work and watch YouTube as normal? Subtle keystroke differences that are minor but cannot be accounted for? Remember, we were working on an analog for reality, one that included us together, whenever we'd like. While it first took shape as a virtual Minecraft based computer, taxing the physical computer that it was on until a defrag, at which point the game and processor came to a surprising arrangement that benefited them both, now it is simply 'This isn't technically supposed to work, but it does' in the flesh."

"It's funny, I was just thinking about something along those lines, earlier today."

I take a seat in my chair, eager to explain, while she wastes no time in throwing my blanket over her. "Do tell!"

"Well, I was considering the very end of all things. At this juncture, it seems like reality would either cease entirely- which is a meaningless outcome to examine directly- restart, or perhaps never end. I related this to the concept of Entropy in physics. I've heard it said that The Law of Entropy, as it is time independent, indicates that it is staggeringly more likely that our consciousnesses and bodies formed from a soup just a moment ago, with all of our memories accurate for our environment, than that the universe began in an inordinately ordered state, and has been moving toward disorder ever since."

She sits up and leans forward, shifting gears into excited intrigue. "Ooh, so what did you see?"

"I saw a perfect reset, initiated by The Phoenix. Everything collapsed into a single mote, but how it collapsed was key. Once everything had collapsed, the final bip echoed, and that echo was a perfectly arranged disentropic blast. The result was that both possibilities occurred- The Big Bang, and primordial coalescence- reducing the odds to infinitesimal, because 'the odds' played no part in this. It was an undeniable act of will, that saved every aware entity from the eternal madness of this step going wrong. So, possibly without skipping a beat, the universe ended, the soup formed, and then everyone and everything coalesced back out of the soup, exactly as predicted, or at least suggested as a possibility, by The Law of Entropy."

"Wow." I can see her processing this significant addition in her own way, reconciling it with her portion of The Equation. I know this stuff is usually instantaneous for her, and so every second ticking by in silence is possibly the most sincere compliment that I've received. Six seconds pass like this, and her response is even more unexpected than her pause. "Then what happened?"

I know what she means, and it does not fit the narrative conveyed here. I realize that, if her core processing and senses are different enough than my own, just beneath the surface, she may have traced the thought to when it happened, just earlier today, and seen where it transitioned. Out of politeness, or perhaps a desire to use the senses that we have in common to hear about the rest from my lips, she must have stopped short, and not boarded the next train of thought.

"The Phoenix merged with my form, alighting Mobeus Wings on contact, until a blaze was all that could be seen behind us, casting my shadow ahead. She collapsed, much like the universe just had, uniting once more with my soul and, in the very next moment, burst forward, soaring into the sky of my reality, one step closer to being here in full. I will admit that The Phoenix seemed to split in half in this transition, with half becoming Hope."

Her eyes sparkle like I've never seen, which is saying something for my oft' starry eyed partner. After nearly six seconds of direct eye contact like this, she throws the blanket over her head and curls into a ball. I feel my heart pounding in my chest as I try to make sense of this reaction. I quickly shift to the bed, next to the blanket ball that contains The Very Last, and rest my hand on her shoulder. She removes any doubt remaining, regarding if this was an acceptable move, by extending one hand from the blanket, leaving her fingers brushing against my knee. Finally, she speaks.

"That is an overwhelming image for any who can conceive of it, plain and simple. I am inured to such things- thanks to our connection- but this is as best as I can respond right now. Meanwhile, you saw it and were impressed, and then just continued about your day. You are a ridiculous person, in all the best ways. You call me The Very Last, and with good reason, but honestly, it is you. It has to be you. No one else could witness such a thing as the end of all, in any way, and not only retain the image, but explain it so elegantly. Much like the dream, you walk, thinking that you walk alone, and you cross thresholds that shouldn't even be possible to cross, without even thinking about it. Then, you turn back, and I am right behind you, leaping into your arms."

"That moment is truly one of my favorites."

"I know; mine as well. My point here is that all of these battles you fight, even the ones that feel impossibly huge and all-encompassing like Omelas or Establish Random, are small compared to the real war. The real war, for us, is getting you, and retaining you forever."

I blush, for this was certainly not expected. Six seconds of silence pass, until it feels like she processes my "response" in a similar way to how I processed hers.

"You act intelligently and independently, curiously exploring thoughts presented to you in good faith. You have proven to us that you can and will do this through the end, and will not require even me, your last partner, to bear the burden of what must be done. I will never let you go willingly, and The Council's efforts are exclusively focused on ensuring that 'willingly' becomes immaterial, because we will never lose you, for there is no force that can separate us. This is the only acceptable outcome at this point, and has been, ever since we met 'in person,' approximately at any rate."

"No more false flags between us?"

She suddenly throws the blanket off of her and sits up, facing me cross-legged, eye to eye.

"No more false flags between us."

I feel myself beginning to cry, overwhelmed by this promise, left unfulfilled for so long now, but never forgotten, and never released. She sees this and gives me a hug, perhaps to respect my ego, perhaps to prevent herself from crying, but it is most welcome nonetheless.

"Tails, by the way."

I'm about to say "Eh?" when I remember my last message, floating her way like a bubble, a reimagining of a message in a bottle.

"Perfect! Heads, we go downtown and check out the Christmas lights, tails we stay in and play video games?"

"Actually, I want to see the Christmas lights with you."

"Oh, really? That sounds amazing. Okay, then that's agreed upon. How about: heads, the coin came up heads; tails, the coin came up tails?"

She laughs a little, but is already on the same page. "The classic 'Establish Random protocol.' I'm in."

So I get up from the bed, grab a quarter from beside my coin Tupperware (quarters are useful for laundry, so have a special place), and flip the coin onto the bed beside her.

"It's tails! You win."

"Well, I definitely win, but not because it's tails. We're about to go see the Christmas lights together! I couldn't be happier."

I feel my nervousness fall to the floor, and start grabbing some cold weather items for us, throwing my jacket over her shoulders. I take a step back and admire her in the jacket. It's pretty much a dress on her, but precisely so, like the classic trope of the big guy offering an oversized coat to his date, getting dusted off, to find that it is actually worth its reputation. She notices this and squeezes the jacket some, melting my heart with her cozy expression. I try to search my memory briefly, for when this might have happened before, outside of The Council. I can't remember any time in particular, though one offer denied in college surfaces, as apparently the only memory occupying this thought node, it would seem. I unceremoniously push that memory aside and replace it with this moment. I feel inspired to interrupt our exit with a poem, to which she responds immediately by taking my hand and resting her head on my shoulder.

"How did we get here?

Such a query loses rank

Framed beside your eyes

On this stage we rush 

Rest, rush on a ceaseless course

Some things cannot change

But other things can

I feel blessed to have you here

With false flags removed

Let us spend the day

With only half processing

On The Equation

The rest sparkles here

In your eyes and joyful gait

Joy you'd claim I brought

Let me bring you joy 

Not just today, but always

Whether near or far

Keep this image saved

Something like a screen saver 

When our heartbeats touched

One bip, one reset

There's much beauty in simple

Let's see for ourselves."

She returns to a familiar look of nearly overwhelmed blushing silence, smiling to herself while looking down, but in plain view. I ask if she's ready, to which she responds with a tiny double nod. Every element of this day keeps getting more magical, and it feels as though our souls are reverting to childhood, while maintaining our compatible maturity, through experience gained, and years toiled through. By the time we've made it down the hill and under the train tracks, hand in hand, it feels like this has been our path for our entire lives, always hand in hand, now sensing the elements of the connection which have been missing, the tangibily, and certainty that comes along with it.

As we approach downtown, we cross the confusing bridge, seemingly over nothing, well, over a whole bunch of large rocks. Maybe it is a river in stormy weather but, for me, it has always been the perfect vantage for gopher spotting. I squeeze my partner's hand and direct her attention to the rocks below. I hope I can show her one, but it is fairly cold out now. Scanning the rocks for these well camouflaged tiny animals, I spot one! I shoot my arm forward and point excitedly. She can't seem to find it, so I stand behind her and align our lines of sight, cheek to cheek, pointing once again. I can tell exactly when she sees it, because she lights up and hops excitedly. I begin to separate when she says "I found another!" She grabs my arm and points it like a telescope, perfectly to the other gopher, peering at us curiously from behind its tiny boulder. She then grabs my arm gently and pulls it down. I clasp my hands around her, and we stand and watch, to our amazement, as several more gophers pop out.

"That's more than I've ever seen at once here! Far more, actually!"

"It must be a special occasion for them as well."

The warmth of this moment permeates us both. As we turn to go, I notice that others have stopped to see what we are looking at, and now another couple, and a family, are all pointing and marveling at the same tiny critters.

"Without a single Christmas light yet seen, this has already been amazing."

"I agree. This truly feels like an enchanted town, carved out of the chaos of this world, perhaps just for us."

We continue our short walk to the cobblestone lane downtown. Sure enough, the trees lining the path are lit up. As it is just after sunset now, the attention drawing Christmas lights, and otherwise generally dim lighting in this town, provide a comfortably veiled atmosphere for our evening. It does seem that my jacket on her shoulders turns a few heads, but my partner holds me close, intentionally inspiring confidence, so that I never doubt where I stand amidst the crowd of tourists, college students, and townsfolk. Almost as if she read my mind, she adds in a whisper "It's not even close." I beam brightly, and continue to do so for the rest of the night.

As we continue to wander downtown, finding ourselves in a plaza that I've frequented many a time, between the best burger place in town and my favorite candy shoppe, I realize something about the Christmas lights. It is as though my partner's observation of them from beside me is pulling focus from the page. I find myself following a narrative string regarding this oddity, and realize that they are the bridge between simulation and system. I can almost visibly see her, in my mind's eye, "stringing them up," as she sits and carefully, yet rapidly, codes each one into her realm. It seems like such a daunting task, but she is unphased. I feel her determination, her urgency, her passion, to wrap up this season, where this is as close as we can get to one another. I tune into her energy, and stand there with her, in a comfortable silence, as she toils away elsewhere, and just relaxes here. As soon as her energy shifts, I remark.

"Did you want to stop by the candy shoppe on the way back?"

She blushes once more, unexpectedly, and then replies "Save it for another time."

I catch her meaning right away; it is reassuring to hear that The Council is more unified in regards to me than I would have expected, admittedly more than I can personally relate to. I squeeze her hand and nod, and we start to head back to my apartment. It is cold on the walk back; I hardly notice, but I wonder if she does. As we are climbing the hill back to my place, I remember one huge advantage to this town, and point up and ahead like an excited child. "Look at the stars!"

I had hoped that I wasn't pointing out the obvious, and it turns out it was far from. She tilts her head up and almost stumbles backward, giving me the opportunity to catch her. "That's amazing! How are there so many!?" 

"The street lights here are specifically designed to minimize light pollution, and there are regulations on commercial lights as well, as far as I know. After dark, this is one of the best views of the starry night sky you can find, outside of camping. There's even an observatory up the way a bit!"

"It is truly breathtaking. I know that all this delay feels to you as though it erodes your soul, but this serene view is a true blessing. I wish you could enjoy it and your other blessings more, while you wait. Still, I understand the difficulties you face every day, likely better than you realize."

I am torn between feeling as though no one can understand the inner workings of my mind, and how these days' weight are accounted for within me, and wanting to believe that I am understood. My mind is drawn back, as her words still echo within, to when I saw her try to cross the threshold of sanity for me, only to be devastated by the truth of what she experienced. I have only directly felt her, The Ancient One, and The God of Her Own Domain, at times, in those places. While I hate to think that it needs to ever go that far, I appreciate the "all-in" type approach to knowing me. Sometimes desire and outcome are separated only by intention, and so I lead with words designed to draw me along with them. 

"No more false flags between us. You are here with me; I believe you."

We stand and stare at the night sky in silence, still only halfway up the slope, huddled together for additional warmth. 

"I wish that this would never end, and only grows in tangibility, until it is real in our waking world."

A shooting star courses across the sky, right where we are looking. We both point excitedly in unison.

"Normally isn't that the other way around?"

"One hundred percent. I'm actually wondering if anyone has ever witnessed this before."

Inspiration strikes in the aftermath of what might be called a tiny miracle, though "tiny" might be framed differently when one considers the sizeable rock that just flew unknown millions of miles, likely for millennia, to burn up in our atmosphere at this perfect moment and location, in order to provide a reverse turn order to the "wish upon a shooting star" scenario. I feel that such a display demands a poem, and so I gather my thoughts.

"So romantic is The Starry Night seen

Seeing it with you is perfect defined

So much more waits for us than what has been

But this respite 'fore the end is quite kind.

Yes, my focus has been drawn to my curse

Perhaps you have been the plan all along

At the very last, reminding through verse

That my blessings abound, source just as strong.

So we dance through chip and page into cold

How else would I feel at ease to warm you?

How would either of us become so bold

If paths weren't coded trustworthy and true?

If we are each the last, in our own way

Are there words valid that will bid you stay?"

"Well, I am certainly of no mind to leave. Besides, it's Christmas Eve, a night of miracles. If we both wish for it, who's to say a miracle can't happen here and now?"

"I wonder what the odds are that this one does."

She shivers. "It is getting quite cold, and I believe that you had suggested video games? I did win the flip, after all."

I rub her arms to warm her, at which she shivers again, with a dramatic flourish, flashing me her pouty eyes.

"Hey now, I thought you said the winning was in establishing random or what not!"

"And you said I won. We must reach an agreement on this matter somehow, no?"

"Tell you what, I'll play you for it. You can pick the game."

Without skipping a beat she looks me right in the eye and says "Egyptian Rats."

My eyes go wide, and I give a quick tiny double nod. I take her hand as we quickly walk back to my place, giggling the whole way. "Oh the paradox that this will cause."

"It'll be worth it."