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“If #SpartanSurvived failed in its efforts, no one would be the wiser. There was no risk to her online persona. No backlash from haters. Anonymity’s cloak both protected her and kept the torch of Spartan alive. Because as much as fandom knew a fan had created the post, the faceless message held the faint promise of authenticity. And if people believed it, then the magic was real. They could change Spartan’s fate, because they thought they could, and tonight’s video would cast the first spell.”

“Ash bumped her shoulder. “Hey, Vale. I got a joke for you.” She smiled. “Okay.” “What do you do when the world champion of Scrolls of the Illuminati knocks on your door?” “I…” Vale giggled. “I have no idea.” “You say ‘well done, sir!’ then pay the man for the pizza!” Ash cracked up at his own joke and a moment later, Vale began to laugh too. For a few seconds, it felt like everything was normal again.”

“Drew was focused on a hundred details at once: like the fact that her hand had dropped to his, and that her body was pressed up against his side; that her fingers were warm in the cool night air, and that her skin looked silver in the moonlight. Drew’s gaze flickered up. The bruise on Tess’s jaw was gone, her blue eyes dark and entrancing. “So are you going to do it?” she asked. Drew frowned. “Do what?” “Jesus, Drew,” she said with a nervous laugh. “You gonna kiss me or not?” His hands slid around her waist, pulling her against him. Tess’s eyes widened, lips parting. “Yeah,” Drew whispered. “I am...”

“She was tall and wiry, a dark smudge - a bruise or dirt - marring the light, inner surface of her forearm. Piercings dotted the shells of her ears, a tattoo peeking out from under her waistband. Drew’s breath caught and held as she turned and her face came into view. She was beautiful in the way that bonfires were - mesmerizing and more than a little dangerous - brilliant rather than pretty. Like those flames, she drew him forward.”

“AJ knew he should stop the fight. Still, the sight of a little girl - no younger than himself, though smaller - pounding on the commander’s bully of a son made him pause. He watched in open-mouthed admiration as her fists rained down on Holden’s face. This fleshy boy transforming into a snotty-nosed, crying lump of flesh was the same one who’d bloodied AJ’s nose a week ago. She’s taking him, AJ realized.”

“He unfolded his lanky frame and stood up on his bed, pulling the basement window open, followed by the screen. Two long legs in faded jeans were crouched down beside the faded flowerbed, knees pressed into the damp dirt. He shivered as the chill autumn air filled the bedroom. With the window open, the sound of late-night insects chirping in the distance joined the noises of the house. “Tess?” he asked, craning his neck to peer upward. “Everything alright?” She was backlit by the streetlight, her hair a halo of gold-framed blue. She gave an angry shake of her head. “Can I come in, Kyle?”

“Days were long; nights longer. The streets, empty of tourists, were replenished by returning wildlife. Bighorn sheep stood in the parking lot of Hunter’s Coffee Shop and licked dirt off the hubcaps of parked cars. Deer meandered down Main Street and caused unexpected traffic jams. Even the cougars returned, slinking through night time gardens and leaving oversized paw prints in soft soil.”

“In seconds an 'up' elevator came rushing toward them. The doors opened, revealing a mostly-empty interior. “Sometimes,” he said, “you have to go up to go down.” Liv followed him in, marveling at the scene below them. She could see the full scope of Dragon Con from her bird's eye vantage, the floor a living mass of bodies. Tiny toy-sized people in cosplay moved in bright splotches of color ten stories down. And it wasn't just one section. The atrium level was equally packed, the hallways leading to ballrooms around the hotel teaming with people. With an unsettling rush, the elevator sprang upward, the figures shrinking into specks. Liv's stomach contracted and she pulled back from the glass. They were incredibly high.”

“Beyond him lay a small, boggy lake, a few patches of brush along its edge. There was the scent of decay, and Rich’s nostrils flared in disgust. His feet slowed just as one of the bushes moved. He jerked to a stop and his knee twisted in his haste. A stone’s throw away, a grizzly bear, interrupted from its feast of carrion, stood up on hind legs.”

“Her gaze darted back to the computer screen. THIS IS YOUR CALL TO ACTION. If she posted this, it needed to be real. She needed people to believe Spartan could come back. They needed to trust that he'd made it out of the ship. It couldn't just be fangirl to fangirl, writing Starveil AU's that never really happened. This would be the guerrilla warfare of character ships. The fans would have to reweave the details they had into a new explanation of those last seconds of film. They'd take no prisoners, leave no wounded fans behind. But, as in any war, that meant the intel behind the revolution had to stay secret for as long as possible. Fandom had to believe.”

“Mona was nice.” Liv choked, the latté sloshing over the edge and onto her fingers. “You set that up to be mean,” she said, putting the cup back on the table. Xander smirked. “I didn't actually. She's a cool chick.” “Then why don't you date her?” Xander's grin widened. “I did, dearest. That's why I know.” “But I'm not gay!” “But you might be bi,” Xander said. “You never actually said.” He waved away her protesting gasp. “I just thought you should check Mona out. Sexuality is a spectrum, Liv. Never know until you try.”

“She stared, wide eyed as glass-walled elevators shot up fifty-two floors like pods in a launch tube. Everything - from the glaringly bright carpet swirling with psychedelic lines; to the hotel's open ceiling ringed by storey after storey of balconies, the distant roof so high it made her head spin; to the people decked out in cosplay - was torn from a science fiction novel. It seemed Liv had spent the last eighteen years in search of her people, and in one sudden explosion of fate, they'd all been brought together in this place in time. Her eyes filled with tears as a sudden awareness filled her. They were all nerds.”

“She was in his arms. Laurent’s arms! He spun her around and set her back down again in the space of three seconds, then stepped back and slid his hands into his pockets. His face looked flushed under his tan, but she was still reeling from being touched, her mind pulling in a hundred different directions at once. Laurent smelled good. He felt good. He was so unbelievably beyond her level. Oh my God... I’m totally falling for him.”

“It felt like surfacing; the sounds and smells of the city hit her in a wave of sensory overload. A taxi peeled by. A horn blared. People milled past, on their way to countless destinations. Madi squinted into the late-afternoon glare and smiled. The hum of millions of separate lives, woven together, gave her a buzz she couldn’t explain. Here in New York she was faceless, unknown. Herself.”

“What’s THAT?!” Laurent screeched as the bushes directly next to them began to move. A hundred things ran through Madi’s mind: that serial killers really should choose more productive ways to spend their time, that her sister Sarah was going to be out-of-control when their parents broke the news Madi’d been murdered, that it was a really stupid twist of fate that Madi’d found the man of her dreams only to lose him, and lastly— That really looks like a squirrel. “RUN!” Laurent bellowed as the little creature took two bouncing steps toward them and stopped, staring at them with interest.”

“They headed across the meadow, passing groups of students eating lunch. A mottled bird that looked like a cross between a chicken and a pheasant burst from the undergrowth. Ash watched it flutter into the trees, then land in the bushes. “What in the world…?” Vale followed his gaze to where the bird waddled through the undergrowth. “It’s a spruce grouse.” Ash stared into the trees. A few steps away from the meadow, the light dropped by half. “What did you call it again?” “Spruce grouse is the official name, though they’re sometimes called prairie chickens or fool hens.” Ash chuckled. “Fool hens, huh?” “Yeah. People think they’re kind of dumb—the way they let other animals get close to them. They’re pretty mellow.” Ash watched it as it faded back into the autumn foliage, the plumage a match to the brown and orange leaves. “How do you know all this stuff?” “I don’t know,” she said. “I read things, I guess.” “I know that, but where’d you learn the stuff about birds?” “I’ve got a couple books on wildlife. Books on the woods, and on camping, and survival, and…” Vale shrugged. “I just read a lot of stuff. Okay?” Ash grinned. “Pretty cool.”