Rafael & the magic DarKNight

After a well-deserved siesta, the world had righted itself, and they had regrouped in his bedroom.

Now, Rafael was feeling smug, the tablet secured in the bag hanging from his shoulder and surrounded by his crew while they hurried toward Media Room. He felt upbeat at the prospect of going home soon – with Lennart safe and sound – and putting Dreamland’s demands behind him.

“What a letdown that the dang battery’s dead,” Maddox muttered.

“Come on,” Poppina chided, rolling her eyes, “we’ll have it up and running in a minute.”

When Rafael walked in, a hush fell upon the room. He had all but forgotten how dedicated his classmates had been to the search and rescue mission, risking their lives to find him. Still, he hated being the center of attention.

“Say something,” Grace whispered in his ear, startling him out of his contemplative state.

He gulped, flashed an awkward smile, and gave a shy wave. “Uh, thank you, girls, guys. I appreciate your help. So, I’m back now. Thanks.” How mortifying lame.

Devart approached him, a beaming smile on his face. “I heard you battled a whole pack of wild beasts, is that right?”

Poppina answered for him. “Yes, he not only held them off but threw himself at the evil boss to save me.”

Without warning, a thunder of claps filled the room. Rafael blinked, surprised by their appreciation.

Devart hooted, slapped his back in comradery, and pushed him into the eager crowd. “We need to hear the details. Is it true you survived on chicken nuggets?”

Rafael sent a pleading look to Poppina, but she just slid the bag from his shoulder and whispered in his ear, “Great diversion. We charge the tablet and head back to our headquarter so that Grace can work her magic in peace.”

He couldn’t argue. Beneath the dark façade she displayed to the world, Grace was a soft-hearted, quirky computer genius, and he trusted she would be excavating the tablet’s dark secrets in no time. In the meantime, well, he would face the all-too-eager crowd.

“Chicken nuggets and ice cream,” he said through a forced grin.

From that moment on, his classmates bombarded him with questions. A girl even asked how he had managed without a bathroom. He attempted to evade the onslaught by saying he didn’t remember most of the ordeal. It worked, and before long, everyone was blabbering about their own camping excursions back on Earth.

Relieved, Rafael leaned back and let the conversations flow around him. It felt good to be part of a larger group... sometimes. His tired eyes were beginning to droop when Maddox tapped his shoulder.

“Come on, you still need rest.”

He waved goodbye and followed Maddox. “Where are the others?”

“They’re heading to the secret hangout. Grace said she started while it was charging and figured out the program, but she wants you to be present before she discloses anything.”

“Is Poppina mad?”

“Probably pulling her hair out.”

They chuckled at their friend’s typical impatience.

“Where are the teachers?” Rafael asked as they walked through the deserted kitchen.

Maddox sighed. “They’re most likely planning how to get the feral beasts out of Dreamland. I wonder what they plan to do about the astral zombies, though.”

“Shouldn’t we share our intel with them?” Rafael felt terrible about hiding something this huge.

“No. They blew off Poppina and even made her cry. They didn’t believe us before, and they won’t believe us now. Besides, you can’t reveal how you got the tablet.”

“You have a point. Who made Poppina cry?” He wasn’t above a bit of payback.

However, Maddox’s answer was overridden by another voice.

“Isn’t that the scrawny crybaby thief?”

Bobby and his smirking gang were blocking their way.

Rafael slanted his head, weighing his options.

“Nice to see you too, Bobby,” he said, putting a restraining hand on Maddox’s arm. “I’m sure your time is too precious to bother with someone like me.”

Bobby sneered. “I see you need another reminder of who runs this place.” He moved forward, chin down, hands fisted. “I owe you one for stealing my stuff anyway.”

Another step would be perfect, Rafael thought, but the guy stopped to spew some more nonsense about his rightful place at Centisom. He even imagined himself the next Headmaster.

“You don’t even have the right ancestry,” he berated Rafael, to the delight of his gang. “You’re just a scrawny, one-gifted geek who hides in Dreamland to get attention. I, however, descend from a royal line of...”

Rafael couldn’t contain his amusement at the chest-puffing, and a snort escaped him. This guy who used to scare him now looked like a bloated idiot. Change of perspective had taken care of his angst, just as his mum said it would.

“Right, I certainly ain’t royal blood, but I don’t need to be,” Rafael said with a peal of evil laughter and a wave of his hand.

At that, Bobby turned bright red and lunged forward, leaving his gang behind. Rafael flicked a hand and, in a blink, sturdy soccer nets wrapped themselves around the wannabe thugs. A split second later, they were flush against the wall, their cocoons secured by big bolts.

Bobby’s cocoon, however, was dangling upside down from the ceiling like an oversized salami.

Rafael chuckled and dusted his hands.

“Don’t you think that will making things worse?” Maddox asked, surveying the cursing salamis in awe.

“Yeah, about that...” He craned his neck. “Shut your potty mouth, Bobby,” he ordered.

When Bobby didn’t comply, he slapped a piece of industrial silver tape over the offending lips and said, “Don’t push me, Bobby. You don’t want the Headmaster to know what you did to Mr. Zhou.”

Bobby ceased his struggle, and Rafael could see a flicker of fear in his eyes.

“That’s what I thought. How about you do your thing, and I do mine, and we settle this on the soccer field like men?”

The stony glare that followed was answer enough.

“Come on,” Rafael waved to Maddox, “Bobby and his crew can easily dissolve the nets once they master their emotions.”

Maddox smirked. “In that case, I’ll be back to cut them down later.”

They reached their secret hangout without further delay, eager to hear what Grace had uncovered.

Poppina was in deep conversation with Kiano, pacing the room in her usual weird hopping patterns. Grace was lounging on the sofa with the tablet in her lap.

Jennifer, standing near the door with a hip on the wall, reacted first to their arrival. “What was the holdup?” she asked loud enough for the others to notice, her eyes fixed on Maddox in worry.

“Rafael had a soccer heart-to-heart with Bobby. Bobby won’t be bothering us again,” Maddox answered, his eyes brimming with mischief.

Jennifer lifted a brow in question. Rafael and Maddox locked eyes and burst into laughter.

“I wasn’t aware,” Rafael said, “that Bobby thinks he’s the king of Centisom.”

“Now, he’s the king of Salami!”

Poppina’s face lit up in amusement. “The next thing you know, he’ll be declaring himself the king of the Dreamland.”

“The king of Salami and Nightmareland!” Rafael said and gave Maddox a high-five.

“No, he couldn’t handle the responsibility of a king,” Kiano piled on. “He’s a spoiled, entitled wannabe prince.”

Maddox and Rafael looked at each other, dumbstruck. “T.P.O.D.! The Prince Of Dreamland! That’s it!”

“It fits,” Grace called out from the sofa. “Come over here, you need to see this.”

The group gathered around, and Grace held the tablet screen so they could see it. “First thing, the code for the original training simulation game was written by Rahima.”

“You’re kidding,” Poppina said. “Mr. Zhou let her do the programming for him?”

“Looks like it to me. So, I tested it and found 99.99% of it was regular code. Nothing weird. No trojan horse or anything like that...”

“What’s the other point-zero-one percent of the code?” Rafael asked.

She flashed a smile. “Heh. That’s where things get interesting: It is deeply embedded, hidden sub-routines programmed to trigger an encrypted executable about halfway through the game.”

“What do you mean by that?” Maddox asked, “I’m not a computer expert.”

“Are the other tablets also infected?” Jennifer asked, alarm evident in her tone.

“No,” Grace answered, “I checked them already, they’re clean. But this code is a beauty,” she continued with a look of pure awe on her face. “The executable is written in a language I’ve never seen before... at the sub-machine level... at the freaking energy field level. It shouldn’t even be possible, but Rahima had a breakthrough.”

“Holy snabarca... energy level...” Rafael’s voice trailed off.

“Once the hidden executable is tripped, it sends mutant code into the environment, sort of like wi-fi signals, but on a completely different level, and creates energy level programs that scale up into physical objects... like the wild feral beasts. I dare say Rahima is a genius.”

“Evil genius, you mean,” Maddox mumbled. “She birthed creatures from hell.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Poppina chastised him.

“Dang it, so that’s why Centisom can’t detect them: They are pure energy, essentially camouflaged,” Rafael said, snapping it all together in his mind like a beautiful math equation.

“Exactly. And the feral beast objects the code creates are called Sentinels. Once the tablet was physically in Dreamland – that would be when Mr. Zhou opened the doors – the tablet released an impulse, an energy stream, into Dreamland. I surmise that was when the first Sentinel was planted. Sentinels clone themselves, so one impulse was enough.”

Grace pushed to her feet and went to the board. She wrote as she explained.

“This is where it gets exponentially crazy. I checked the logs in the tablet, and there were actually three impulses transmitted that day. One went into Dreamland as I said, one was… lost, but the last one somehow piggybacked on an individual astral body and rode it back to the real world.”

Rafael nodded.

“And when that astral body arrived in the real world, its owner recovered the code, then recompiled it into an online game called... DarKNight.”

Everyone in the room gasped.

“Rahima’s not working alone,” Jennifer said. “It’s even worse than we thought.”

“Yep. DarKNight,” Grace said, adding the name in bold letters to the board, “is the second part of the evil equation. It’s more addictive than any substance in the world. It drones on and on: play me, share me, play me, share me until it hooks and immerses unassuming kids. Not long after the game starts, it hijacks the kid’s mind, turns the player into an astral zombie, and sets him or her loose in Dreamland.”

“I knew games could be addictive, but this is another level,” Jennifer said.

Rafael gulped. He had seen the results on his brother.

The group sat in silence, processing all the mind-boggling revelations.

Maddox broke the silence. “Looks like the Sentinels are there to protect the hijacked astral kids… from us. That’s pure evil genius and scary as hell. So, who’s the Prince?”

“We really, really need to stop this madness,” Kiano said, “before it destroys Dreamland.”

“I still don’t understand why Mr. Zhou would support it,” Poppina added, with a sorrowful note in her voice. “Maybe he didn’t understand what was going on right under his nose...”

Rafael’s wheels were spinning. He lifted a hand to catch Grace’s attention. “Grace, how did you put all this together in such a short time?”

“Speed-reading helped a lot,” she replied with a proud smile, “plus, my brain is wired that way. Call it a natural gift.”

He eyed her. Was she one of those rebel hackers in the real world? He decided not to put her on the spot. Instead, he stood up to study the board. “Next question. How can we stop it?”

“Well, if you’re asking if destroying this tablet would stop it, the answer is no. The code is already in the wild,” Grace said.

Rafael gulped, trying to lubricate his dry throat.

“So, where do we go from there?” Kiano asked.

Grace smiled in triumph. “Thought you’d never ask. Lucky for us, according to the code comments, once the code has run its course and the zombies are in place, there is one, last, outstanding download designed to pull the Prince, or Princess, to be fair, into Dreamland to presumably lead the zombie invasion. But I’m not going to let that happen.”

“Oh?” Rafael asked.

Grace grinned and pointed to the tablet. “I’m working on a trojan horse that I intend to embed in the codebase. The second the window opens for the Prince or Princess, the trojan horse will execute, trace-route back to the server in the real world and destroy the program and the data – which I’m sure is in the cloud – totally clean. Game. Over.” Her grin turned evil. “Rahima and accomplice are about to meet their match.”

Rafael shrank a little at her cruel yet gleeful expression.

“Oh, the accomplice would be a guy named Henry... Price...” Poppina said as she scrawled The Prince Of Dreamland = Henry Price on the board.

All heads turned toward her. “We found out Henry had a breakdown sometime during his training. A beast bit him during an outing, and he went off the rails. He was Rahima’s boyfriend, and the reports say they escaped to Dreamland together. They didn’t find her, but they rescued him and shipped him back to the real world, minus his memory.”

“A love story!” Maddox spat out in disgust. “We’re going through this crap because of love?”

“There have been wars fought for less,” Jennifer whispered.

“You think Grace’s trojan horse will work?”

Rafael startled, and the manifestation he was working on dispersed before he could finish it. He pressed his lips together and started anew.

“Jennifer, I fully trust Grace to deliver.”

He had to, for his brother’s sake.

Grace had set up her computer rig in their secret headquarters – with the reluctant electrical support of Centisom. She had worked on her program for a whole week. As she tweaked and re-tweaked the trojan horse code, she showed Rafael how she weeded through T.P.O.D.’s abstract strings of gibberish like they were tripwires of a bomb, careful not to change a single character.

Rafael stayed by her throughout the week. Her poise and confidence calmed his frayed nerves. He was also in serious awe of her skills.

Meanwhile, training had resumed. Even soccer practice was again underway, except now Kiano and Devart were playing on Rafael’s team, freeing Poppina to coach them. She was determined to crush Bobby’s team, and her bossy, blunt style sparked conflicts between her and Maddox. That, in turn, set Guardian Vivek on edge, who wisely decided to resign as a trainer and patrol the area instead.

The bickering was exhausting. Sometimes it reminded Rafael of his arguments with Lennart, and it made him sad.

Guardian training had shifted from emergency response to war preparation. Rafael didn’t know when the Headmaster planned to engage the Sentinels, but they had to be ready for that day.

“I’m glad Grace is on our side,” Jennifer said, “she’s like a coding goddess.”

Rafael nodded in agreement and refocused on his manifestation. Another shield solidified. He sent it with a flick of his wrist to the growing pile of weapons in the corner of Manifestation Hall.

To his great surprise, Ms. Renvoizé had canceled all her Nurture classes and was now facilitating combat training. The woman was a freaking amazon and hardcore drillmaster. He hated every second of the training, because well, violence wasn’t his thing. And it showed. His kicks were too weak, his punches too loose, his posture too hunched, and his spirit too meek – her words, not his.

As for Bobby, he never missed an opportunity to flex his strength. He always chose Rafael as a training partner, and he made sure the ensuing training hurt. Without Maddox’s healing, Rafael would have severe walking troubles by now. But he let it go, knowing the brat was only draining his anger. On the bright side, Bobby was keeping his distance outside of training.

While the other guys were doing okayish, Jennifer was a ninja, and Poppina was a samurai. Their sparring was so intense that the class often paused to watch them fight. Grace was a lost cause, like him.

He sighed and manifested another shield. Mr. Dowotski’s ever-present watchfulness unnerved him. Something had changed in the teacher’s demeanor, something more than the mere prospect of war. He was always hovering, which made Rafael careful to hide his palms.

Ms. Pepper was, in contrast, a soothing presence. She had insisted on continuing their one-on-one sessions, claiming it was important he “process his traumatic experience.” But in truth, the two of them only made small talk and chatted about everything and nothing. One time, she had asked about his aspirations. He said he wanted to be a soccer star. She had smiled in encouragement and said she couldn’t imagine him not achieving his goal if he persevered and urged him to pursue it no matter what.

That evening, he sought the seclusion of his secret room and, for the first time, considered what he wished for himself after the war ended. He hadn’t expected a chance to return to the real world, and he hadn’t stopped to think about it.

From his chair, he could see into the mirror hanging over the fireplace. An image of his mum formed in it. The sadness on her face was heart-wrenching. She was holding Lennart’s hand, who had taken Rafael’s place on the hospital bed. He could now see anything he wanted through mirrors. It was creepy, like voyeurism. Therefore, he limited himself to looking after his family.

Dreamland pulled him like a gravitational force. Despite the constant nagging, he was able to ignore it most of the day, but sleep was getting harder. He hoped to overcome the pull when he was back in the real world... if he made it back to the real world.

He had to decide if he wanted to go back to his old, simple life and devote himself to his soccer dream or to stay and embrace his Planeweaver power, devoting himself to protecting the dreams of others, without any support.

He had grown more attached to his friends. Their unwavering loyalty and honest friendships were gifts he treasured. He dreaded the idea of leaving them, especially Grace. And yet, he dreaded the idea to stay just the same.

He knew he couldn’t have it both ways.

Two more nerve-wracking weeks passed before Mr. Demetriu called another meeting in the kitchen. Rafael stood with his crew at the back of the room, trying to calm his nerves with slow, easy breaths.

The Headmaster’s face was grim as he looked around at the nervous flock. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, filling the cavernous space with his grave timbre, “as you know, we left our beloved Dreamland in a chaotic and dangerous state three weeks ago. At this hour, evil beasts are threatening the safety and security of the precious astral bodies we swore to protect at all costs.”

He paused as an angry roar rose from the crowd. “This situation cannot stand. We, Guardians and trainees alike, must rise up together and restore peace and harmony to Dreamland. You’ve trained hard to become a better version of yourself, Guardians, and now the moment has come to prove yourself...”

Rafael’s heart raced. A warm hand slipped into his. Grace. He squeezed, and she squeezed back. The moment to fight had come. He wasn’t a mere survivor anymore, but a warrior.

“... You are precious to us, and your commitment, now and in the future, is essential for the welfare of Dreamland.” Medeor’s eyes roamed the crowd, stopping here and there to give small nods of encouragement to Rafael’s classmates.

“Now, for a few important instructions. Listen closely to me. First, you won’t engage the wild beasts. Combat is and stays the job of veteran Guardians.” He pointed to the staff members and the other Guardians to his left and right. “Second, your mission will be to provide logistic and healing support for all Guardians, and to that end, you’ll keep a safe distance at all times. Third, Ms. Pepper will issue each of you a Transcry. You will only use it if you are in a life or death situation and have no other choice. Don’t play hero. And finally, we will depart for Dreamland in two days, Monday morning, so get prepared.”

Murmurs went through the assembly, and a hand shot up. Medeor nodded to Tamke.

“What will happen after we activate our Transcry?”

Ms. Pepper stepped forward. “You’d be transported back to the real world and awakened from your coma. Please, only use your Transcry in case of emergency because, after that, you won’t be able to return to Centisom for long periods. In that case, we’d assign you to a Guardian Unit to complete your training during your natural sleep.”

Her eyes caught Rafael, and she motioned for him. He wove through the crowd, head down to avoid seeing pity in his classmate’s faces. They knew he couldn’t activate a Transcry.

They exited the room, and Ms. Pepper sagged against the corridor’s wall, dread written all over her face. Rafael’s mind was running through arguments to convince her to let him go with them.

“We can’t force you to stay in Centisom,” she said in a weary voice. “So, the decision to go to Dreamland or stay in Centisom is up to you. But please understand that if you find yourself in a potentially fatal conflict, we can’t offer you a way out.”

They made it easy for him. “Once in Dreamland I’ll stay with my friends, I promise. I’ll be vigilant and return to the portal if I sense extreme danger. Maybe Guardian Santiago could stay with us?”

Sensing her hesitation, he pushed on. “Anyway, my Manifestation power is strong, and I can manifest in a pinch. Surely, you’ll need me. And my defenses have strengthened. If we get ambushed, I can hold the beasts at bay long enough to escape. I’ll be fine. Let me help.”

She sighed and patted him on the shoulder. “You’re such a brave young man. Please take care out there.”

No, he wasn’t brave, he thought when she departed. He and his friends just had an amazing plan.

Same difference?

They were left in peace the whole weekend, as Guardians probably made final adjustments to their plans and prepared to battle for the future of Dreamland.

Saturday dragged on, the tension among the trainees climbing with every passing minute.

Rafael bumped into Devart on his way to Maddox’s room, where his friend had been brooding since the kitchen war meeting. A glassy-eyed Jennifer had asked Rafael to check on him after he had refused to see her.

“What we need is a party,” Devart declared.

Rafael halted in his tracks. “Isn’t that a strange thing to do on the eve of war?”

“Absolutely not. Everybody’s freaking out. Everyone’s out of their minds with worry and fear. We need a diversion.”

Devart’s fingers were drumming his jeans, Rafael noticed. “Yeah, I see your point.”

“Cool.” Devart said and all but pirouetted in place. “Meet me in the kitchen in one hour. You can help with the decorations and food – and oh, ice cream, plenty of ice cream. In the meantime, I’ll pass the invites out. See ya!”

As Devart jogged away, Rafael huffed in frustration. Decorations. Food. Why did those things scare him more than the prospect of war? Ah, yes, of course. Loads of people came with food and decorations. He groaned and knocked at his friend’s door.

“It’s me, Rafael.”

After a stretch of silence, the door swung open, offering a sad sight. Maddox’s eyes were red, and it looked like a tornado went through his room.

“Come in.”

Rafael took a few steps into the room, taking care not to step on his friend’s favorite pictures lying all over the floor. He searched his mind for consoling words, unsure of what to say.

“I know how it feels. We all feel the same,” he finally said.

Maddox laughed. It was a broken sound that made Rafael cringe.

“What’s on your mind, bro?”

Maddox let himself fall onto his bed. “What if we fail?”

“Then, we keep trying.” He wouldn’t abandon his brother to blind fate.

Maddox nodded as though he hadn’t expected anything less. “Then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will you return home, leave us for good?”

Tears welled up in Rafael’s eyes. He sucked in a breath. “I don’t know yet.”

He still hadn’t decided, but his friend’s distress was hitting him square in the heart.

“What if we still need you? What if one of our friends, or family, was in danger? Would you stay for us?” Maddox was almost shouting.

Rafael bristled at the accusing tone but reminded himself Maddox didn’t know how Dreamland was tearing him apart. “It’s not that simple,” he said with a sigh. “Besides, I’m still here, aren’t I? Let’s discuss step two after step one is over. Deal?”

Maddox’s anger deflated. “Sure.”

Rafael sighed in relief. “You know what? Devart’s throwing a party. Let’s go and have fun with our girls.”

“Our girls?”

Horrified at his slip-up, Rafael glossed over it. “Let’s go. I promised Devart I’d provide ice cream.”

“Let’s go dance with our girls,” Maddox said with a laugh.

What had he done?

Although the party had been a smashing success – even the teachers caught wind of it and made an appearance – Sunday was unfolding into a hangover of pent-up aggression.

One by one, PIC Team members wandered into their secret hangout in search of solace. Maddox had recovered from his bout of sadness and was rehashing their plan – over and over, ad nauseam.

“Once we’re in Dreamland, we form a defensive line around Grace. First, she gets the tablet out and runs a program she wrote that sends an impulse to wipe out the Sentinel population. Bam. Next, we wait for T.P.O.D. to connect. As soon as he does, Grace’s evilly good trojan horse kicks in and wipes out his servers back on Earth. Boom. Sentinels gone, zombie kids back to their physical bodies, and everything is well again.”

A chorus of unenthusiastic “yeahs” rose from the group.

Grace stood up and stretched. “I’m tired. See you warriors in the morning.”

Jennifer and Kiano followed her. As they departed, Poppina turned to Rafael.

“You sure about this?”

He nodded. “We have a simple, low risk-high gain plan. And if it doesn’t work, then we’ll find another way. Besides, I have you, samurai-warrior, at my side.”

She laughed and hugged him. Maddox tried for a fancy first bump. They laughed again when their hands kept missing, sharing a moment of levity that illuminated their dark mood.

Rafael waited a few minutes after his friends left the headquarters – it had upgraded to war room – thinking about everything he had left out.

Deep inside, he knew plenty could go wrong, and he would be the one on the frontline, raising a protective wall around them while Grace recalibrated.

If the situation escalated beyond hope, everyone else would have the option to use the Transcry and transport out, but he would be last… and possibly too weak to follow them.

When he went out in the hall, he called, “Mr. Santiago?”

A shadow detached from the wall. “I’m here.”

“Good. Got a minute?”

“Of course.”

Rafael offered his hand, which the Guardian took without hesitation. His steps didn’t falter when Rafael pulled him through the stone wall, proving Mr. Santiago had known about their hideout all along.

Once in the war room, the sturdy Guardian noticed the boards and went to examine them. His eyes darted from one notation to the next.

“What kind of mischief are you planning?” he asked. His voice had lost its usual spark of humor.

“Oh, I wish it were only mischief,” Rafael answered, looking the Guardian straight in the eyes. “We tried to share, but nobody believed us.”

Without a word, the Guardian walked back to the first board and studied all the notations again.

The frost was still in his voice when he spoke. “So, there is a traitor.”

“Yes.”

The wings of his nose flared. “But according to your plan here, you’re not going after him.”

“Correct, we’re not even sure it’s him.”

“Well, that’s not right.”

Rafael looked at Mr. Santiago with his most devious smile. “I was hoping you’d feel that way.”