Matta's consciousness returned in fragments - first the sensation of something impossibly soft beneath her, then the distinct memory of Sienna's finger connecting with her forehead with enough force to knock out a charging rhinoceros. Her eyes snapped open, ears immediately flattening against her head in annoyance.
MTA: Did she seriously finger-flick me unconscious?
The indignity of it burned more than any actual pain. She'd survived horrors, only to be taken out by what amounted to a supernatural forehead flick. Her pride would need therapy.
She sat up, expecting solid ground, but found herself sinking slightly into what looked like the world's most comfortable cloud. The surface beneath her was white, fluffy, and definitely not following normal physics. It felt like lying on crystallized moonbeams, if moonbeams could be turned into the ultimate mattress.
Everything around her was variations of white and silver - rolling hills of what might have been cotton but moved with too much purpose, structures that looked like they'd been carved from pearl and starlight. The sky above was a blue so perfect it hurt to look at directly.
MTA: Oh, come on.
She turned around and nearly jumped out of her fur. Aquila stood there, no longer wearing her forgettable gray dress but robes that seemed to be cut from the same material as the clouds themselves. Her face was the same pleasant, unremarkable features, but up here they seemed to fit better, like she'd finally put on clothes that actually belonged to her.
AQL: Good, you're awake. I was worried Sienna hit you too hard.
MTA: She finger-flicked me unconscious!
AQL: Yes, well, interdimensional travel can be rough on first-timers. The flick was more of a... gentle nudge into the right state of consciousness.
MTA: Gentle?
AQL: You're still breathing, aren't you?
Aquila offered her hand, and Matta grudgingly accepted the help to her feet. The cloud-ground held her weight perfectly, despite looking like it should send her plummeting through several layers of atmosphere.
MTA: Let me guess. Heaven?
AQL: Afterlife District One, actually. But most people call it Heaven, yes. Terrible branding, if you ask me. Makes it sound all harps and halos when it's mostly paperwork and committee meetings for us virtues. At least the ones who pass have peace.
She gestured for Matta to follow her along what might generously be called a path, though it was more like a suggestion carved into the cloud-scape.
AQL: Come on, I'll show you around. Fair warning - try not to step on anything that glows. Those are usually important.
MTA: Important how?
AQL: Foundation stones for this place.
MTA: ...You're joking.
AQL: Am I?
They walked in silence for a moment while Matta carefully avoided anything that so much as glinted. The architecture around them was beautiful but utterly impractical - bridges that arced through empty air, buildings that seemed to exist in more dimensions than should be mathematically possible, gardens where flowers bloomed in colors that didn't have names.
MTA: So this is what you do? Interior decorating for the afterlife?
AQL: I prefer maintenance specialist.
They paused at what looked like a viewing platform made of compressed starlight. Below them, Matta could see... everything. The world spinning like a soap bubble, dimensions folding and unfolding like origami made of space-time, the fundamental forces of existence flowing between realities like cosmic rivers.
MTA: Okay, that's... actually pretty impressive.
AQL: Thanks. Took us years to get it understandable by everyone. But you're not here for the sightseeing tour. You're here because something's wrong. Something fast enough that even the monitoring systems up here can't track it properly.
MTA: What kind of something?
AQL: The kind that shouldn't exist. We call them Tears - fractures in the fundamental structure that move so quickly they outpace causality itself. By the time we detect them, they've already caused damage three dimensions over.
She pointed to what looked like a particularly sparkly section of the cosmic view.
AQL: See that dark spot there? That used to be a second moon of ours. The Tear passed through it so fast that time couldn't keep up - the whole thing just... never was.
MTA: And you need me to catch it.
AQL: We need you to try. You're the only being we've found who might be fast enough to intercept something that exists between the concept of 'before' and 'after.'
They continued walking, passing what appeared to be a group of beings playing a board game with actual galaxies as pieces. One of them waved cheerfully at Aquila.
BNG: Hey Aki! Still trying to solve the Tear problem?
AQL: Working on it!
She turned back to Matta with a slight grimace.
AQL: He has been stuck on the same chess move for three decades. Nice guy, terrible at time management.
MTA: This is all very impressive, but why the whole mystery routine? The taco stand, the card, making me run around the world asking questions?
AQL: Would you have believed me if I'd just appeared and said 'Hi, I'm from Heaven, want to help save the universe?'
MTA: ...Point taken.
They stopped at what looked like a comfortable seating area made of crystallized clouds. Aquila settled herself gracefully while Matta remained standing, her fur still slightly ruffled from the morning's revelations.
AQL: The truth is, Matta, most problems in the universe can be solved with enough force, enough wisdom, or enough time. Your friends Neru and Shen prove that daily. But Tears... they exist in the spaces between solutions. They're so fast they outrun their own existence.
MTA: What happens if we can't stop it?
AQL: Well, the good news is you probably won't live long enough to regret failure. The bad news is neither will anyone else. In any reality. Ever.
MTA: That's... cheerfully optimistic.
AQL: I try to maintain a positive attitude. Would you like some tea? We have excellent tea up here. The water is blessed by the concept of tasty itself.
Despite everything - the cosmic responsibility, the impossible architecture, the casual mention of universal annihilation - Matta found herself almost smiling. There was something refreshingly honest about Aquila's approach to cosmic horror, like she was discussing weekend plans rather than the potential end of everything.
MTA: Alright. I'm in. But I have one condition.
AQL: Name it.
MTA: Next time you need to recruit someone, just ask them directly. The whole mysterious routine is exhausting.
AQL: Deal. Though I should mention - Sienna suggested adding a musical number to the recruitment process. I told her that was probably overdoing it.
MTA: Definitely overdoing it.
AQL: That's what I said. So, ready to save existence as we know it?
MTA: Do I get to go home for dinner first?
AQL: That depends on how this goes. But I promise, if we succeed, I'll take you to the best taco stand in any dimension you choose.
MTA: There's other worlds with taco stands?
AQL: Earth is the only planet in the universe with life, but we try and keep the others intact incase of future mortal expeditions.
MTA: Bummer.
Matta looked out over the cosmic vista, watching worlds spin in their endless dance, and felt something she hadn't experienced in months - genuine excitement about what came next.
MTA: Alright then. Let's catch ourselves a Tear.