Nobody Came to the Funeral - SCP Foundation

2 August, 2021 - I think?

I’m staring at a military base with a pair of binoculars. Watching a crew of GOC types load up a series of suits of armor onto a truck. I’m here for a reason. This is the next step in our little war against the Foundation. But I find myself drifting back to a few days ago. Or what I assume was a few days ago.

Time is hard to pay attention to in a world of endless books. You try living in an infinite library containing all books ever written or that would be written across the bleeding multiverse – whatever that is – and try keeping time.

There ain’t no sun or moon or stars. Just books. And people fucking live here, there are whole ass communities in between the stacks. I ate ramen last night at a free-standing cart like they do in Japan, and it was situated in between sections for the occult philosophies of Alagadda and the histories of some place called Leng. You’d think an open flame would be something the librarians discouraged here, but apparently people live their whole lives in the stacks.

Me, I’ve never been a big fan of reading. Good way to get in trouble, I’ve found. It was reading what brought me to this confluence of insurgency against the Foundation and aiding the escape of a four-armed person what knows the unknown from the depths of Foundie prison. O5-0 is the only name they’ll give me. Which I don’t need to explain to you, isn’t a fucking name. Apparently, some big shit magic guru what helped start the Foundation then got kicked out. Basically a myth until we broke them out.

Said four-armed myth slurped down two bowls of tonkatsu in front of me, so I’d say they’re very real. But then, no one remembers I exist after I leave their eyeline. Who am I? I’m Lou. Ms. Nobody. But then, the only people who get to read this are me, myself, and I. So why the fuck am I introducing myself? Future me reading this, you’ll have to forgive the meandering tone here. I haven’t had much time to record my thoughts and I’m trying to get into the swing of it again. Sue me.

Back to the subject at hand, it’s fascinating to me that O5-0 – seriously, that’s going to get annoying, gonna be Zero from here on out – has no trouble seeing me or remembering me. Hell, they even remember my name. I didn’t think that was a thing anymore. Few years on now I’ve been a miasma of imperceptiveness, only lightening up when I concentrate. Sure, the odd duck has noticed me here or there, but I just put the whammy on em and that’s that. S’alright? S’alright.

But this one, they know me. Sees me from across a room and waves me down. Been right disconcerting.

Why am I going on about this? Other than tamping down on the raging imposter syndrome and churning mass of anxiety that is my life? Zero has been around me a lot lately. ‘Bout a month ago, me and these other blokes sneak into Site-01. Yeah, that Site-01. Big bad Foundation prison for everything they want even their own people to forget about. We go in for the express purpose of busting this fucker out. Turns out, they knows the Impasse and they knows what caused it. And if anyone can do something about it, it’s them. Hence why them overwatch types locked Zero up.

So here we is, in the heart of multiversal knowledge and resistance to all things Jailer, with the Black Queen (Don’t love that name, me darling. Feels a bit up your arse.) and some others, and another Nobody. Oh yeah, I’m not alone. Don’t have a name for him, he don’t remember one – or so he says – but I call him Barry. Hates it, he does.

Got plans we do. Or at least, they do. Don’t know why I’m still here. Well… that’s not expressly true. I do know why I’m still here.

DRAMATIC MUSIC. THE SCREEN GOES DARK. THE CROWD GOES ALL GOOEY WITH ANTICIPATION. CUE THE FLASHBACK.

Wanderers’ Library – The Depository

31 July, 2021

One week after the raid on Site-01

The Depository stood in the center of a sea of books, the stacks arrayed around it like a forest of the written word. But this building was different than most in the Library. Although a variety of building materials are used in the Library, the Depository is built of roughhewn stone like something out of time immemorial. A central courtyard surrounded by an oblong ring wall and a two-story building house the collection of magic and knowledge gained by this Alison Chao and others to be used as an asset in the Hand’s long quiet war against the Foundation. This isn’t a story about that war, not today.

The structure is older than most know or care to think of. It pre-dates the Eighth Archivist’s tenure. It predates the Roman Empire on most worlds. How the Black Queen came to own the building is a story in and of itself, but that is not the story we are here for today. Today is about remembrance.

The Black Queen stood on a balcony overlooking the modest courtyard and the surrounding area of the stacks. She looked down on nearly a thousand mages, operatives of the Serpent’s Hand, Library docents, and even the large centipede that governed the Library. They had all gathered for one thing. A funeral. She started to speak.

“We are not strangers to death. In our calling to fight against the oppression of the Jailers, to free magic from their iron grip, we have all lost colleagues and loved ones. I have personally lost friends and family in this conflict. But rarely do we have the wherewithal and motivation to hold a gathering such as this. In the last month, we have seen magic start to return. We know that the Jailers, against type, were the deciding factor in reversing the Impasse. We know there were teams all over the world trying to secure every advantage, totem or relic that could have made a difference. His August Personage, the Eighth Archivist, has graced us with his presence today and he tells me that members of the Jailers were even here in the Library not five weeks past, looking for a way into Alagadda.”

Allison Chao paused here to let that fact sink in. It was common knowledge that the multiverse over, the Foundation was not to be trusted in these sacred halls.

“What has not been common knowledge, is the reason behind this death of magic they have called the Impasse. The Jailers might have fought to stop the entropic destruction of all things touched by magic or the anomalous, but they had good reason to. They were covering for their own sins. The Jailers are the cause of the Impasse. Their century or more of containment has weakened the natural state of the worlds, and so almost brought about the collapse. As so many of us know, without the anomalous there is no world. And for once, the Jailers saw it the same. But their actions in light of this catastrophe were to paper over their complicity. And even so, what actions they’ve taken have only stemmed the tide. The Impasse is not reversed. The dead will not come back. The relics taken by the Jailers are being used to blunt the damage. We will see some return to the old powers, yes. But how long before it happens again? The Jailers might have changed ever so slightly. They may have freed some of their prisoners that posed the least threat to their Veil. But containment – slavery – is still their status quo. If it caused the Impasse once before, then it will surely do so again.”

She scanned the mass of bodies, looking into the eyes of hundreds as she panned left and right. Two Nobodies stood in the crowd, next to a four-armed individual of indecipherable gender. All three were impossibly hard to focus on, so Chao did not bother to.

“It is for that reason that I have authorized a number of operations against the Jailers in the past weeks. Operations that at one time would have been considered suicide. But we have been informed of the Jailers’ weakness. Their disorganization. Their self-doubt. Their internal strife. Although their cabal of overlords has kept the truth to themselves about the cause of the Impasse, it is an open secret. We even have seen new resistance from within. And so, we committed to operations that would not even have been considered before. Because now is the time to bring them into the light, so they can die where we all see them.”

Chao lowered her gaze.

“Unfortunately, despite the Jailers’ disorganization in the wake of the crisis, they still present a serious danger to our people. We are gathered here to mourn our fallen. And one more who fell due to the Impasse as a whole. We say their names so we might remember their deeds and their contribution to the cause.”

“Kimori Quan Chi.”

“Melissa Acherman.”

“Shalid Margossian.”

“Chloé Allard.”

The crowd intoned each name after her, a thousand voices strong. And then she paused again before the fifth and final name.

“And one more we do not know the name of. Many of us have called him Thanatos, as the Greeks might have called him. But he was the Grim Reaper and Charon too. Not a figure to be shunned or hated or feared, but a source of hope in the darkness of dying. We have recovered documentation from the Jailers that he too has fallen, disincorporated by the entropic effect of the Impasse. Many a dying soul has been shown the comfort of a caring universe by his presence in their last moments. But, most likely, there was no one to welcome him into the pale lands when it was his time. I wanted to honor his memory, because like so many things and people made up of wonder, they are gone from us now.”

The crowd was silent, most of which with bowed heads.

“If any of you want to come up and speak of those we are here to remember, I welcome you to do so now. This has been a hard time for us all, and will be harder still. I wanted to come together and show us all what we’re fighting for. So no more of us are locked away by the Jailers. So no more dead and forgotten gods are cemented over by the Jailers’ endless hunger for their arbitrary status quo. Thank you all for coming. It means the world to me.”

The two Nobodies broke off from the crowd and met the Black Queen on her descent of the stone steps within the library. The individual known as O5-0 trailed behind, along with Amy Corvin. They follow the Queen into a side room away from the stream of people starting up the stairs to share their memories of the fallen.

The room contained a sleek conference table, already covered with tomes and documents. The Queen sat at the head of the table and indicated the rest to find seats.

“I appreciate you coming to this. Especially you,” she said, nodding to Zero.

“The very least I could do, given your assistance in freeing me from my wayward colleagues.”

“I know this has been a lot for you, I can’t imagine your perspective, but I need to know you’re in this fight.”

“I have been in the fight for longer than you’ve been alive, Ms. Chao.”

“Good. I just need to know where we’re all at. Getting you out was only a first step in a new facet of this long war.”

“I was imprisoned by Overwatch for my activities in trying to stem the tide of the Impasse.”

The female Nobody spoke, reminding Chao she was there. She shook her head slightly, as if trying to shake out the disorientation.

“What did you do?” the Nobody asked.

Zero, with apparently no difficulty, focused their eyes on the woman.

“I stole one of their artifacts and was in the process of stealing more. The Council gathered four artifacts of prodigious thaumaturgical potency. They did this in an end run gambit to stymie the worst of the Impasse. Despite my clear warnings that it was the systemic containment of the anomalous that was the cause.”

“How did they find these artifacts?” Corvin asked.

“I told them about them, in a round about manner. Many years ago I had an office within the organization, and many materials were left behind when I fled from the Council. I did that because I knew they would not take my warnings seriously. And I will admit, when I realized that my notes on several artifacts that could be used to dampen the entropy and slow, possibly even halt, the death of the anomalous, I thought it was a good thing they were in their hands.”

“Holy shit, why would that be a good thing?” Corvin asked, half rising from her seat. Chao placed a hand on her young friend’s shoulder and gently pushed her back down.

“Amy has the mouth of a sailor, but she has similar concerns as I do,” Chao said.

“I thought that if anyone could hunt down four legendary prisms of unrestrained thaumaturgy, it was the Foundation. And I was right. When the Impasse started to show its effect on the world, when things started to quietly die that should not ever do so, I wormed my way back into the Foundation. I infiltrated and made myself appear as a researcher. I clued in the Council to the existence of the notes, as they had sealed up my office and pretended I never existed, and planted the seed of a plan. I thought to sweep in, gather up the artifacts under their noses and use them for my own purposes.”

“Didn’t work as well as you hoped,” Nobody said.

Chao noticed the other Nobody was silent in his reverie; despite his impetus in forming this little cabal – having called all those here together in the first place – he was strangely quiet.

“Yes and no,” Zero said. They placed two of their palms flat on the table, crossing the other two arms across their chest. “I wanted to use the artifacts to stem the entropy, and that is what the Council is doing. As potent as these artifacts are as weapons, and they are without a doubt weapons, their greatest utility is damming up the flow of the Impasse. So, it worked in the sense that the Council is using them for the purposes I foresaw their potential to be. But they discovered me and imprisoned me. I got through to some of them, sat in the room with them and convinced nearly half the Council to walk away from containment. To shut down the Foundation.”

“Do you think those you convinced would be willing to work against the organization?” Chao asked.

“That’s hard to say. My gut says no, that voting against the Foundation is not the same as betraying it. But it might be worth some reconnaissance of those who voted in favor of dissolution.”

“Do you know who voted against?”

“O5s three, six, seven, eleven and twelve.”

“We don’t know a lot about them as individuals,” Corvin said.

“I can fill you in to some extent, at least enough to get started,” Zero responded.

“More research. Great,” the female Nobody said.

“Did you have something in mind, Lou?”

Chao narrowed her eyes at this. Wondered how Zero knew a name for Nobody. The woman also found it obviously disconcerting, and that confusion cleared up a little more of the fog around her. Chao could see the Nobody clearly for a moment, ringed in red curls. But when she spoke, she did not comment on Zero’s knowledge.

“When we got you out, you said you wanted to shut them down. How do you shut down the O5s?” Nobody asked.

“The witty answer would be ‘carefully’ but I think you want more details than that,” Zero said. “We divide them. Find the chinks in the organizational armor and I assure they exist, and then apply pressure. Some violence will almost certainly be required.”

Breaking in here to say I don’t mind a good scrap. Hell, I grew up in London. Can’t go anywhere without a baton or a blade these days. But I’d be lying if I said I was relishing another gun fight with the Foundies and their death squads.

Despite my ability to sneak into almost any sort of secret bunker, I haven’t often utilized my “condition” for violence. That being said, nothing sorts out an authoritative regime better than a knife in the right set of ribs.

Chao nodded, contemplating Zero’s words. “So, do you think reattaining the artifacts would be worth pursuing?”

“No, they are serving a purpose now,” Zero said. “No one wants the Impasse to continue less than I. But they weren’t alone.”

“What do you mean?” Corvin asked.

“There were other artifacts that I thought could be used to serve the same function, and some of those would be useful to secure. If only to keep them out of the Foundation’s cells.”

Chao turned to the silent Nobody, annoyed by his reticence.

“Were you going to participate in this meeting you facilitated? Your colleague seems engaged. You have been silent.”

“I was waiting to see how long it took for any of you to notice that we aren’t alone,” he said.

“What?” Zero said. The other Nobody nodded to the corner of the room, draped in shadows.

“Son of a bitch. I knew I couldn’t trust Placeholder,” a disembodied voice said from the corner.

Zero narrowed their eyes on the darkened corner of the room and raised a hand, forming a series of sigils in the air with rapidity. A woman with short, wavy reddish hair and wearing glasses and a slim jumpsuit wavered into being.

“Right. This is awkward. Let’s start with introductions. My name is Ilse.”

Female Nobody – what was her name again? – and Corvin had guns in hand, pointed at the new arrival.

“I don’t mean any harm.”

“Then why you sneaking about like a bleeding ninja?” the female Nobody said.

“She’s Foundation,” Zero said.

“Not exactly!” the woman exclaimed.

“Not possible,” Chao said. “How could someone from the Foundation find their way in here? And hide from us, in this way?”

“I don’t know,” Zero said.

“She’s very good,” the male Nobody said.

“Yes, thank you. Very helpful,” Chao said narrowing her eyes and looking sideways at the Nobody. She turned back towards the woman in the corner. “Explain yourself.”

“Also, what did you mean when you said you couldn’t trust a placeholder?” the other Nobody said.

“I’ll take those one at a time. First, Placeholder is a person. Long story short, he had his name stolen by a magical whatsit and he gets to walk around with one of the most ridiculous names someone could imagine. He is one of the most important experts in something the Foundation calls Pataphysics.”

“Here we go,” Corvin said.

Chao frowned. “Let her finish. Don’t interrupt again, please.”

“Thank you. Listen, I don’t want to bore you more than you already are, but pataphysics is the study of narrative in dictating the operations of the universe. I think. Suffice it to say that Placeholder told me that this device,” she held up her hand to show a bracelet made of smokey gray metal, “would deemphasize my protagonistic potential to such a degree that I would disappear into the background.”

I shit you not, this is what she said. Protagonistic potential. Jesus.

“Sorry… your what?” the female Nobody asked.

“It doesn’t matter, what it was supposed to do was make me much much less noticeable so I could observe without interfering.”

“Personally, I do not care how you were hiding in the corner, Ilse,” Zero said. “I am a fugitive from the Foundation and here we find you, an agent of that same Foundation.”

“No, not really. I’m not an agent of the Foundation as you understand it. I’m the director of the TAD. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. But, we’re not super interested in containment or locking up anything.”

“Then what are you interested in?” Zero asked.

“Maintaining the timeline.”

“The what now?” the female Nobody asked.

“A chronological arrangement of events in the order of their occurrence in the simplest meaning, but in a world of alternate realities, it’s a specific arrangement,” Zero said. “One of many. In other words, another dimension or a different versions of our universe.”

“So, there are different version of us out there?”

“Absolutely. But there is only one Wanderer’s Library, and it connects to all of those other worlds.”

“Well, most of them anyway. It’s hard to say for sure if all universes connect to the Library,” Chao said.

“Beggin the question: How does this ‘TAD’ maintain a fawking timeline? What does TAD even stand for?” the Nobody asked.

“The Temporal Anomalies Department,” Ilse said. “We mostly monitor anomalies that directly affect the arrangement of events and interfere with the Prime Timeline, the most stable. If the multiverse is the branches of a tree, then the Prime Timeline is the trunk. So, yes, we are the Foundation, but we aren’t interested in locking up murder monsters or interfering with the Hand, we are entirely focused on combating a number of retrocausal, temporal and ahistorical events that are caused by anomalies.”

“This doesn’t explain why you are here, why you infiltrated my private space, and why you were skulking around like a home invader?” Alison asked.

“For one thing, what you five are discussing has a significant impact on the following years. I couldn’t help but see it for myself.”

“‘For one thing?’ What else?”

“According to our records, I was supposed to be here.”

“What does that mean?” the male Nobody asked.

“To a very limited extent, my department is able to traverse the time stream. It’s necessary to preserve the timeline. The TAD exists outside the timelines, by way of a bunch of technical jargon I won’t be explaining. Effectively, you are in my past. In my present, we have technical details concerning the events following the vote of the O5 Council and Zero’s escape from custody afterwards. One of those details is that I was present. Which isn’t technically possible.”

If I had to read this, I’d get real sick of me or someone else asking “what?” because half the stuff this bird said made no sense. Every other word out of her mouth was bloody gibberish. I guess it showed on my face, cos she went on.

“Long story short, I only recently freed myself from a sort of containment that’s held me underground for the better part of the 20th century. I’m still there, underground in Canada. Actually, today I am giving a presentation on ***.”

The TAD Director ended the sentence with a screeching that sounded like metal tearing apart. Everyone in the room flinched, except Zero.

“What in the fuck was that?” Corwin said.

“There must be a memetic filter on that presentation. I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since I had to worry about clearances. Suffice it to say that I wasn’t in the Wanderer’s Library on this day, talking to you. But that’s what the TAD’s records say, so… I figured I’d sit in the shadows and see if a different version of me showed up.”

“You didn’t consider that the version of you that would appear, was you?” Zero asked.

At this point, I had the worst headache of me bleeding life. Even thinking of this conversation makes my head hurt.

“It did, but I thought that was an outside possibility. To be honest, I’m still thinking that other version of me wanders in any minute. You should know what that feels like, Ms. Chao.”

“That’s not how it works with my sister selves,” Alison responded.

“It was a poor attempt at a joke.”

“What did your records say you were here to say?” the male Nobody asked.

“Jesus. I forgot you were here. I hate that.”

“It’s no bloody fun for us either, lady,” the female Nobody said.

“Apologies, I don’t mean to be insensitive. Why I’m here… well, I guess, to sell out the Foundation.”

Alison gaped at her, she could see everyone else’s reaction was similar.

Just imagine I said “What?!?!” again.

“I know, it’s not the most predictable path for an agent of the Foundation but apparently, I give you information on the whereabouts of three Overseers and several pieces of equipment that will help you in your endeavor.”

“Why would you help us?” Alison asked.

“The TAD might be part of the Foundation, but it is entirely outside the command structure. We follow our own prerogatives and march to our own drum. The way the O5s have handled the Impasse leaves a lot to be desired. And apparently, it’s already happened so… despite the fact I have misgivings, I will provide you with the information.”

“In exchange for what?”

“A few minutes of your time for some questions concerning your sisterhood.”

Alison considered for a moment. She could see Amy Corvin’s head shake in her peripheral vision as the young woman tried desperately to get her attention. She met Zero’s eyes across the table and they shrugged ever so slightly.

“I imagine the Foundation already knows everything it needs to concerning your special condition,” Zero said.

“I promise to keep everything confidential. Anything related to the Impasse is not even on review by the O5s.”

“You’re incredibly transparent, Dr. Reynders,” Zero said.

Ilse startled.

“Apologies, I have been aware of your predicament for several decades. When you mentioned your name and your recent incarceration, I put two and two together.”

“You’re very well informed.”

“I began your organization over a hundred years ago, my good doctor. I tend to keep tabs on them. But don’t dissemble. Why are you being so apparently forthcoming with us, the enemies of your Foundation.”

“As I said, I don’t agree with how Overwatch handled the crisis. I don’t appreciate the way they treated you. We are supposed to contain threats to normalcy, not people who disagree with our policies.”

“I am a threat to normalcy. A significant one.”

Ilse chuckled. “I have no doubt. But my point is, the Foundation has been overly concerned with locking up threats to their organization. Things and people that aren’t a threat to anyone’s life but do imperil the Foundation’s power and authority. And for another reason, anything said within this building is null and void.”

Zero turned and looked at Alison. “What does she mean?”

“I have considerable reason to be paranoid these days,” Alison said. “This building has a geas placed upon it. Anyone entering that wishes to report what occurs here in a way that would provide information for my enemies will find themselves completely unable to communicate the information.”

“I wouldn’t even be able to confirm to someone that I was here if they demanded I do so, if it was to work against the Queen or the Hand in general,” Ilse said. “So, no one at the Foundation will know that it was this me that told you anything. Only that a version of me, free from my incarceration as you called it, appeared today to aid in the conversation. And even then, the only with access to those files are people in the TAD who don’t care.”

“Very well, provide your information and I will answer your questions, within reason,” Alison said.

“Excellent! So, the first thing I’ll tell you is the name of O5-7: Marjorie Gonzales. And I can tell you where to find her too.”

And at this point she starts listing off details about a number of O5s and then gives a debriefing on some assets that would help in taking out capturing the Overseers. Honestly, it’s terribly boring stuff. Let’s move on. I’m pretty sure someone was writing it down.

With my condition, you can imagine it’s easy to lose someone’s focus. Really it’s a curse, but every once in a while – well ok, actually all the time – it’s really useful.

So, Dr. Ilse gives us a whole run through, which like I said I’m skipping over, and the others are talking in a frenzied manner. Zero is taking notes, and animatedly discussing strategies with Barry and Corwin. They start to file out of the room and just as she gets to the door, Corwin looks back at Chao – who proceeds to wave her off. And here I am, slinking into the far corner of the room, the same corner this chick popped outta the shadows from, and fading from sight.

You gotta understand, its not a literal vanishing act. But I think it works more like a filter. People just have a harder time noticing me when they’re not directly interacting with me. Gets even easier when they’re a) as focused as the doctor and Chao are on each other, and b) when I lean into the mojo. Always there, my condition, in the back of my mind. I can hold it back for a while, make it easier for people to see me/remember me. And just as easily, I can lean the other way entirely.

I get out my little recorder, because I don’t know what they’re gonna talk about and I want to remember it clearly. No one who calls themselves a queen is to be trusted. And I think by now, you know my opinion of anyone willingly signing up to be part of the Foundation – Time Abnormal Division or not.

And what they talk about, it’s juicy:

Her Chaoness: What did you want to speak to me about?

Foundie: Have you had occasion to speak with your sisters lately?

Her Chaoness: Every day, or close to it.

Foundie: Any who have experienced the Impasse?

Her Chaoness: Of course, it spread out through the worlds. I think through the Library.

Foundie: Huh, I hadn’t considered that.

Her Chaoness: What do you mean?

Foundie: In hindsight, it’s not really clear how it spread. Maybe you’re right and it started here in your timeline, spread into the other worlds connected to the Library. But I don’t know…

Her Chaoness: I don’t understand. What else?

Foundie: A lot of very smart people have worked on this for years, in at least two universes.

Her Chaoness: And?

Foundie: They don’t know, it seems to have sprouted up in a number of alternate realities. No one does. Or if they do, they aren’t talking. And the TAD has a wide view… if someone knew and were talking, then I’d know.

Her Chaoness: What did you want to know about the sisters? I have things to do.

Foundie: Have you spoken to your sister in the mirror reality?

Her Chaoness: Sorry?

Foundie: The parallel timeline.

Her Chaoness: I don’t understand.

Foundie: With the dissolution of the Foundation and the formation of Vanguard.

Her Chaoness: Please stop. I literally cannot understand what you’re saying. Some more “memetic countermeasures”?

Foundie: What? No. No one could even know to create such a thing in this reality, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. Because you could talk to your sister self in that other timeline, where she joined Vanguard.

Her Chaoness: You’re giving me a headache. I can’t understand half the things you’re saying. Last chance. Do you have an actual question for me?

Foundie: Let’s test it. Can you understand this: I want to know about a sister of yours that has experienced the Impasse.

Her Chaosness: Yes, I understood that. Which one?

Foundie: The one who joined Vanguard!

Her Chaoness: Okay, that’s it. I’m not wasting another minute on this conversation. Figure out whatever is wrong with you and come back if you want, I owe you that much. But this is useless.

Then she ups and just leaves, lets the Foundation goon just stand there looking flabbergasted. I got the impression she was the type of person who usually understood how to communicate and wasn’t used to people just walking out on her ass.

Foundie: So… what does that mean? People in this universe can’t understand when I talk about the parallel timeline? Or does it go deeper? She isn’t even aware of her sister joining Vanguard or she’s an excellent liar. But no, she was the third person to react that way. Seems like no one from this universe can interact with that timeline.

Foundie: I wonder if you could travel from here into that timeline through the Library? That’s how it works right? So, is something blocking the path and stopping everyone from reacting or understanding… or is it something else?

Then she sighed, pulled out a magic fucking pocket watch, played a tune on it and then winked out of existence.

And people think I’m weird.

Anyway, I rushed out of there and caught up with Chao.

“Were you in there the whole time, Ms. Nobody?” she asked.

I nodded.

“You people are always trouble. What do you think that was about?”

I shook my head.

“Could you understand her?”

I shook my head again.

“Yeah, some Foundation mind games I’d guess. Or else she’s under a terrible curse. Wonder what she wanted to know from me so badly?”

I shrugged but she had already headed out of the hall and into the dusky light of the Library itself, probably catching up to Zero. Making with the strategies. I’d join them in a minute, we had a lot of stuff to accomplish if we were going to hold the Foundation over a barrel. But for the moment I was consumed by a burning question from that doctor’s frustration with the Queen.

What’s a Vanguard?