How to Avoid Death on a Daily Basis

Chapter 356: Brown Bread

Chapter 356: Brown Bread

At times like these, its easy to question your own judgement. Maybe it would be best to let the others do as they pleased. What did I care? At least they knew what they were doing, technically speaking.

If they wanted to go off and rule the world be it this one or the one we left behind it would be a lot easier to step back and leave them to it. My role would be greatly simplified if I allowed them to fuck it up themselves.

Its not that easy, though. Things arent always as they appear, and theyre never how youre told. I could simply wash my hands of it all, but that would just mean having to get those same hands dirty again when the irritants of now turned into the industrial strength abrasives of tomorrow.

Thinking ahead doesnt come natural to me. Looking ahead has always been painful. The light at the end of the tunnel hurts my darkness-accustomed eyes, and then turns out to be an oncoming train.

Maurice was inside the shrine. He had come here with that express purpose, and Biadet was on his payroll. Well, maybe she hadnt been working directly for him the idea the worlds greatest midget ninja had simply bent the knee to Maurice was a galling one but she had certainly decided to side with the ingrates. It was pretty galling, either way.

I walked cautiously down the steps into the shrine, always a step behind. This is the problem with not having a goal in life, other peoples goals end up occupying all your time.

Maurice wanted something that was here. Arthur had said this was the way home, but it wasnt clear if that meant a doorway or a magic wardrobe or one-way ticket on a magic bus. Golden Wing departing from Gate 4, last call.

This was a shrine. What or who was it a shrine to? Dead people or holy artefacts? I know, I should have asked when I had the chance, but asking people has never served me very well, whether its asking for help or directions or the truth. No one wants to share what they know in case you use it against them, which I would.

Biadet had managed to get Maurice here, but what did that mean? I was now in the adjacent world, so he should have been incapacitated. But then, so should have Biadet.

By the way, if youre wondering if she was dead, I couldnt tell you. Probably not, would be my guess, so I had her suddenly attacking from the rear to watch out for, too.

I was the only one who was supposed to be able to enter Arthurs secret den, but I wouldnt have put it past Maurice to come up with a way to enable himself to do the same. And what exactly was I planning to do when I caught up with him? No doubt he had prepared for that as well.

Walking away was clearly the best option here. Clearly.

But there was something at the back of my mind warning me to not accept the picture I had been shown. I didnt mind people going tryhard mode for what they wanted. As someone who wanted nothing in particular, I was fine with the leftovers.

What I did mind, though, was being told I was getting a good deal as a way to make me take a bad deal.

You know how it goes, smartass thinks he can not only cheat you, he thinks he can make you think hes doing you a favour. And I would still go along with it, knowing the truth, if it makes life easier in the long run, but it doesnt. Their little victory makes them evermore eager to fuck more people over, especially the ones theyve already fucked over before.

And Im not talking about Maurice, here. Although, talking of Maurice, I saw him up ahead, his back to me.

I floated towards the archway that led to Arthurs realm. I had a ball of light in my hand to help show the way and the wooden sword in the other to deal with whatever was at the other end.

Maurices body was frozen, or at least it appeared to be. It had vines growing out of it like any other body would. As I neared him, I shifted to the side and saw one vine extending through the archway. It did not appear on the other side.

He was inside. He had found a way to get where he wanted to get to, so a big round of applause for the boy who could. Maybe someone this ingenious really did deserve a chance to rule the world. Couldnt be any worse than any of the previous fuckers.

Nope, I wasnt having it. Not envy, not indignation, not even a belief he would do a terrible job. And certainly not for the benefit of the people. Fuck the people. What have they ever done but ruin everything?

That thought in the back of my mind had crystallised into a clear and solid idea. An understanding of what had happened and what was happening now.

I could have cut the vine connecting Maurices body to whatever part of him had travelled through the archway. It was a notion that made sense, even though I wasnt entirely sure what the effect would be. I didnt think it would help Maurice, though.

But despite having reached a decision on why Maurice was doing this, it felt wrong to not face him first.

Going in blind wasnt a good idea, though. If Maurice was confident he could take on both Arthur and Wesley on their home ground, that meant he would be prepared for me, too. I needed to approach this unemotionally. I had to be logical and analytical to understand what Maurice had planned. I had to put myself in the mind of a colossal geek overdosed on pointless trivia, and use it against him. Nerd judo.

I hovered in front of the archway, not liking the options in front of me.

When you arent a naturally proactive person, when youre drawn towards inaction whenever possible, you either embrace solitude and a sedentary existence, or you fake it. You learn how to deal with the daily rituals that make no sense to you by copying others.

You watch people order a coffee in a relaxed and chilled manner, and then you do the same. And once you get it right, when you manage to find the sequence of words that dont make you stutter, you repeat the same order for the rest of your life.

I had changed a lot since arriving here, of course, but then they didnt have Starbucks here, although give them fucking time. It wasnt the act of expressing myself that was the problem thats just a symptom it was knowing what to do.

How do you know? What if everyone rejects your efforts? Are they just guessing and hoping to fluke it, like you are? What if they have it right?

The problem with forcing yourself to act like everyone else so you dont seem like a weirdo (at least not on the outside) is that it doesnt teach you how to live. If they discontinue your usual drink, what do you order now?

I would have liked a training montage to get me ready. Where was my master to shout at me for being rubbish as I failed to learn his lessons? Id have gladly taken his ridicule if it meant that later (after he was horribly murdered) I could have a moment of epiphany and transform into the warrior I was born to be.

Or failing that, Id have settled for a couple of parents who showed me how to be a human.

I was kind of paralysed by the enormity of what I was contemplating doing. It made me feel a bit sick.

You find out what setting you like your toast at, how long to boil an egg to get it the way you like it, what kind of shampoo makes your hair sit quietly on your head without attracting comment, and you stick to those things instead of learning to live a life of unfettered joy. Its fine. Could be worse.

And then, one day, someone (probably you, since you live alone) inadvertently moves the dial on the toast. It pops up far too early, now what do you do?

You could put it back down, but now it will burn. You could watch it and manually stop it, but how can you tell? Keep popping it up every ten seconds? And even if you try to pay close attention, youll still overshoot the sweet spot.

Turn the dial down and let it heat for a shorter time to make up the difference? You like three and a half, you accidentally did it for two, so extra one point five?

Fuck you, it isnt linear. Even if you had an app that worked it out for you, each model is different, each toaster of the same model is different. And as they age, they keep changing. Toaster heating filaments arent a science, theyre an art, apparently.

There are some people who are natural born toasters. They would just slam the toast back down and go about their business. A couple of minutes later, theyd sniff the air and know the toast was done. Bloody show-offs.

I cant waste my life watching toast thats gone rogue. Its not important enough to draw up a spreadsheet with all possible timing permutations. The solution to the riddle of the toast is this: throw the toast away and start again.

I know, shocking. The waste, the depravity. Am I even a person?

Its not that big a deal. We get taught waste is wrong, that food is precious, but all around us the giants of commerce and industry are doing nothing but being wasteful. Its a trick to make us think its our duty to play by the rules while others pour acid in paddling pools.

Fuck the toast for being warm bread with the wrong identity. Its quicker to start again and get it the way you want. God knows there are few things in life that actually have the capacity to be the way you like them.

Of course, we arent really talking about bread.

Then what am I going on about? Why was I standing around (floating around, to be exact) while Maurice was enacting Phase Two of the Git Protocol?

Maurice wasnt the problem. He wasnt the one doing this, any of it. But he was the one who had to take the responsibility. And I was the one who had to make him.

Once I was through the archway, my feet returned to the ground. I was surrounded by darkness.

Hey! Where is everyone? No one answered. That was okay, I was used to being ignored, it was kind of my bonus passive. I expanded my ball of light until the place was lit up like a football stadium. Ah, there you are, you thankless shit.

Maurice was standing next to Arthur and Wesley, neither of whom seemed to be in good spirits. I could only imagine Maurice had already moved onto Phase Three.

Maurice looked surprised to see me. You made it past her?

Being underestimated was my other passive. They stacked.

Yeah. I might have killed her. Shell probably be fine, though. Did you find your Golden Wing? I walked towards him, swinging my sword.

This is how it has to be, he said. Dont make it more difficult.

It was like he didnt know me at all, which wasnt that surprising, all things considered.

This isnt how it has to be, this is how Peter wants it.

Peters dead, said Maurice.

Then how are you able to use your powers so effectively? The whole island just fell for your last wheeze. Doesnt seem like the sort of thing you could do without a boost.

There was no doubt in Maurices face. Ive improved.

No, Maurice, you havent. Youre the same twat youve always been, just hidden under all of this. I waved my hand around to indicate his general presence. Youre the one Peter needed, not me. The only thing he wanted from me was to get me out of the way because Im the only one your powers dont work on.

Hes dead, said Maurice, still no doubt.

Of course, anyone can break the spell if they believe it isnt real, even you. But no ones going to think youre being manipulated by a dead man. Even the Council think hes dead. Its a great trick.

Had the Council fallen for it? Were they in on it? Didnt make much difference.

Hes really dead, Colin.

Peter had him bound up tight. Or I was completely wrong. Too late for all that now.

I have to admit, it does make me feel better knowing not all your shitty behaviour was your fault, but you cant just blame the drink, the alcoholic let it happen. He has to face the music. Even if I could convince you Peter isnt really dead, who knows what other scams hes pulling through you. You really shouldnt have let him in.

You dont know what happened.

I dont care what happened. I only know that removing you leaves him fucked. Not even he can use your powers if youre dead. Id promise to bring you back somehow, but I dont know if I can, and I dont make promises I cant keep.

There was a flash of something in his eyes. Still no doubt, but maybe fear.

Youd kill me, I said.

Only if I have to.

Oh, youll have to. I walked towards him.

Kill him! shouted Maurice.

I cant, said Wesley. Not in here. And out there, he has stopped everything.

Arthur, shouted Maurice, you have to stop him.

Arthur looked at me. How much control did Maurice have over these two? Were they part of it from the beginning? I sent the ball of light higher and brighter. The darkness was Arthurs to control here, but it was quite some way away.

Hes dead, said Maurice. Hes really dead.

No, he isnt. Peter is alive and being a bastard, same as always. Whatever he told you, whatever his plans for making everyone happy, it was all a lie.

Im doing this. Its my idea. Ive never been more certain of anything.

Thats how your power works. Thats how Peter works. The perfect union, really. But, Maurice, even if you are sure this is the right thing to do, you wouldnt be able to feel it over the shame of having to actually do it, like I can feel the shame swamping me for what Im going to do. I saw you when you killed that mouse woman and her babies. You had to do that, too. You werent like this. The real you wouldnt be as accepting of necessary evils. Not much of an improvement, if you ask me.

For the first time, doubt entered Maurices thoughts, I could see it in his face. This is only because you werent included, he said in a small resigned voice.

Fair point, I said, and then I raised my sword and killed Maurice.