You wander through the wastes of this 'Library' with your entourage in tow. It's strange, there seem to be no books in it. The only area the Orb-Orbs appear to gravitate towards is the one corridor where the walls seem to be made of bookshelves, with Tomes chained into the walls. As you walk through it, you see the Orb-Orbs flit and fly in between the rusty chains and into the pages, popping out the other side.

The Tomes' pages are yellowed and dog-eared, leaning out the top of the shelves they are bound to. Out of curiosity, you break one out of its bindings. The chains are so old they crumble to metallic dust in your hands. You have picked the one that the Orbs seemed most interested in and, once it's in your hands, you flick through it. It is full of accounts of different Libraries, conversations with Guardians, the usual havoc and pointless ramblings you would find in any Chosen's Tome. The difference lies, however, in the description pages.

They are different. You have no idea how old this Tome is, but it reads like an older version of the one you have. Here, each Eternal Employee gets a description slightly different to the one in yours, as if yours has been edited. This Tome describes Orb-Orbs as 'fae creatures of purely magical origins'.

They manifest from the leftover magical energy within the Library. When souls get coated in this energy, they condense into the floating stars we know as Orb-Orbs. Naturally, they merge with the next most potent magical force in the Library, its impenetrable shield.

Wait, souls? What souls?? The Orb-Orbs have souls?!? You pull a few more Tomes out of the shelves and set them by your side on the floor to pour through. Many of them contain the same explanation for the Orbs's origins, indicating that these must all be from a similar time period within the Library. But one of them in particular has annotations in the margins, starting with an arrow pointing from the word 'coated'.

What souls get coated? Where is Library getting these Souls from?

There is an asterisk in a circle by the note. Flipping through the Tome's pages, you finally find the page with the same symbol. The ink on this page looks fresher, indicating that this may have been an update to the previous statement.

I saw it! A fly tried to exit the Library recently and was zapped by the shield. As it fell dead to the ground, a mote of golden energy rose up and, like a black hole, it started to collect particles of dust and magic from the Shield, wrapping them around itself.

No way…

This must be how the Orb-Orbs are created! They are the Souls are of those who have interacted with the force field. Perhaps beings that are not allowed to go in or out? I know that Chosen don't get zapped as the fly did. But why is this? Is it because the magical energy from the Shield overloads the fly's small body? This is all highly interesting - I must tell Sally at once!

So they are sort of like… ghosts? But the ghosts of small creatures perhaps. Eventually you find the Tome of the 'Sally' in question, and find that she and someone named Qin Li were, much like you, on a quest to figure out what the Orbs are, although it seems they never formed an emotional bond with them like you have.

They cite finding dead rabbits, or even creatures as small as worms, overtaken by the effects of the Library's Shield when they tried to either exit, or exit and reenter through crevices or windows. They found those that came and went through doors seemed fine; it was only at these strange spots that the magic overtook their bodies and killed them.

And thus, formed the Orb-Orbs.

Suddenly, the apparent sentience of your… err… posse, makes sense. You always figured the Orbs had personalities - or, well, as much personality as a fly or an earthworm could have, at least.

Quickly, you gather your thoughts and rush to share the news with Al-Dimashqi. You find him with one foot already in his Portal.

You dash towards him, forgetting the knowledge you've gained for a second as you are overcome with a crushing melancholy. This feels like seeing a valued co-worker moving to a new research location, only this time it is a lot more final.

“Al-Dimashqi,” you call, out of breath, not quite knowing what to say. “I, I have greatly enjoyed working with you! And if things were to have been different, I… I would have loved to continue doing so. It is… nice to meet someone with similar passions. I hope you find more people like that in your own time.”

Al-Dimashqi smiles at you and, reaching you, he gives you a firm handshake. His eyes are genuine as he cups your hand in his. Then, as he releases, he places both hands on his heart.

“I appreciate that, William. You have also been an invaluable thinker. Though we may never see each other again, I will not forget you.”

The friendship is unspoken, but it's presence is so dense that it pulls tears to your eyes as Al-Dimashqi steps through the Portal.

“Phil!”

Silence.

“Goddammit Phil!?

Faint sounds of a TV in the background

“PHIL!!”

*Bang bang bang*

“Woman! What is it!”

“Couldn't you hear me?!”

“The game was on!”

“Well I think our son is more important than that damn baseball game!”

“Son?”

“Yeah, he called me!”

“Called?! He hasn't spoken to us in 5 years you want me to believe the boy called?”

“It was from a payphone, but he says he's been thinking about some things and wants to come visit!”

Sounds of creaking from old couch springs, and the thumps of boots on a rickety staircase

“Well, what did you tell the boy?”

“He's a man now Phil! For Christ sake he hasn't been a boy since '62!”

“Well how am I supposed to know, he was a boy last I saw him weren't he?”

“Don't be grumpy Phil! It's not his fault he doesn't come home. He's got work! He's trying to keep us all safe ya know!”

“And work gotta be more important than his ol' ma and pa? C'mon Suze you can't be here tellin' me to didn't miss him.”

“Course I did. Whole town does.”

“Exactly. Now you let him know I'm gonna give him an earful when he comes home.”

jingling of keys

“Where you going?”

“Getting the truck, we gotta tell the boys down the shaft.”

“That William's coming back to visit?”

“That their little genius is comin' home.”

WRAITH'S BOY GENIUS BACK IN TOWN

Yesterday one William Wraith, the brilliant 13 year old mind behind the Beaver's Hood Water Pump design in the 1960s comes back a man! William has been stationed on the West Coast for the past 10 years working with the finest minds at the SAC and Atomic Warfare. Their hard work has helped keep the Soviets at bay, but today he returns to home to Joseph, Oregon as a true momma's boy, hoping to check up on the mining community, as well as provide free, yes folks, FREE, upgrades to the people living there. Whatever did they do without him?

The man also returns with over 30 opossums in tow, as well as over hundreds of dung beetles. Beetles were seen to mob camera equipment and opossums terrorised reporters on site. Even after the claim from Wraith himself that they are the most 'Friendly, Obedient Creatures.'. Perhaps rubbing shoulders with the dark side of Europe has taken its toll on the man's sanity.

Pictured is the proud mother pinching her son's cheeks as his father stands stoically in the back. Many miners have gathered for this special day, some have even chatted about erecting a statue to the man, but he insists to them it's going too far.

To Whoever it may concern,

I regret to inform you that I will be resigning from SAC and Atomic Warfare, effective by the end of the week. I have spoken to Dr. Myers as well as General of Atomic Sciences, Gerard Smithson and it is unfortunate that my ideas for a defensive stance towards our battle with the Soviets clash with their ideals of American Freedom and Gumption. It is with a heavy heart that I must write to inform you of my leave, as many of my colleagues have before great friends over the years. However, my change of heart towards weaponry development does not change my patriotism to this country, nor her people. As evidenced by recent news articles.

I wish you all the best.

Regards, W. Wraith

Bing!

You pull the letter from your typewriter and fold it neatly into an envelope, then place it in an Orb-Orb's mouth, as in, a possum with an Orb's soul and send them on their way. You watch as they race out the door of your lodge and down the mountain. You wish them the best of luck as the others pester you for fresh garbage they may rummage through.

One fine day in Autumn, you receive a knock at your door. Opening it, you see a man dressed in a sharp suit.

“William Wraith, how are you? I hope you are having a good day.”

“Nope.”

“Excuse me?”

“Whatever you're selling, I don't want it.”

“Sir, I'm not selling anything I-

“Drugs, Religion, Knives, Cosmetics, I don't want none of it, I got everything I need.”

You move to close the door, but the man holds it open.

“Dr. Wraith. Sir.”

“I don't have no PhD”

“Oh but you should. See, I'm not here to sell you something, if you could just give me a minute of your time. I can explain.”

“Ok. One minute.”

“Uh… so, you see…”

“59, 58, 57…”

One of the possums hisses at him, and beetles crawl over his feet. He gulps but stands firm, you admire the kid's resolve.

“Well you see, I work for a small company called Vista. We specialise in home security systems, and recently one of our interns found your research.”

“What research?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“The one on, on Force Fields. On Invisible bubble shield technology and harnessing the power of electromagnetic fields and-

“Ahh. All that hogwash that the committee dismissed as witchcraft. They haven't seen true witchcraft…”

“Well, I don't believe it's witchcraft. With the state-of-the-art equipment we already have, as well as links into SERN and other research labs - I think it's very… very possible.”

You cock an eyebrow, “They said it couldn't be done.”

“They said it couldn't be done 50 years ago! But you were clearly a visionary, because you wrote on technology that wouldn't even exist for another 30 years. That's why we want you on our team!”

The possums shriek, signalling that the 60 seconds as up and it was time to close the door, but you quiet them down.

“What are you saying boy…?”

“I'm saying, I'd like to hire you. We have lots of researchers who believe in your work, and with you to lead them, we could really make something extraordinary. Revolutionise individual home security beyond cameras and alarms and whatever we've got now. Especially with rising crime rates on the East Coast, I-

“Sonny… I'm just an old man.”

“So?”

“Don't you have some young city-slicker who's got an IQ seven times mine with twice the ladies. Or something? The R&D in the city can't be that desperate to seek out a hermit in the woods.”

You try to shut the door again, this time a little more weakly, he pulls it open.

“But, but you're one of the great heroes of the Cold War! Sure people didn't appreciate you at the time, but you clearly had insight! It was like you had tapped into an entire universe us normal people couldn't see. You know, like what they say about Van Gogh and Picasso.”

You think you remember seeing Van Gogh's Tome all those years ago. His drawings were rather shit, couldn't make out what they were.

“You don't know the half of it.”

He smiles like a dentist's favourite person and pulls out a card. “Exactly, that's why we want you. We're really flexible too, not just with wages. We intend to give you your own lab, and the technology to make your ideas a reality.”

You look at the business card. Yusuf huh? reminds you of someone.

“Please. Everyone already thinks I'm a wishful idiot for starting this whole venture. But I really think we could help some people. Home security allows people to be in control of their home space, make it feel like a safe oasis ya know? Especially in non gated and guarded communities…”

You find yourself droning out his blabbering and staring at the business card instead. Looks like he is a legitimate CEO of this 'Vista' company, and looking around beyond him, you don't see any car or crew. It's just a man with muddy dress shoes.

“I mean, don't you know what it's like to believe in something no one else does??”

You look up at him through you bushy white eyebrows. A smile crinkles up onto your ageing features.

“Aye, that I do boy, that I do.”