It took Ava a few minutes to notice the subtle differences. The world was warmer, a little more humid. The air was fresher in this LitenVärld than in her own. Pastels and paisley seemed to be in fashion in these showrooms, rather than the muted color palettes and natural prints that had dominated this year’s catalogue. But there was nothing that screamed Alien planet! You don’t belong here!

“I really thought another universe would look cooler.” Jules sounded disappointed.

“I guess LitenVärld is the same everywhere,” she said. “That’s what people want, right? Familiarity?”

“Some people, sure,” said Jules. They turned to her. “This place seems chill. You should stay here while I go find Ursula.”

Ava rolled her eyes. “I’m coming with you.”

“I told you, I can do this on my own,” Jules said, frustration bleeding into their tone.

“I know you can!” Ava snapped. It was true. Jules was prepared for anything, everything. They could have been a Boy Scout, if the Boy Scouts weren’t transphobic trash. They may have moved in a personal chaos field, but it made them more at ease with the unexpected and strange than anyone. At their best, Jules was good-hearted and calm in emergencies and tended to know what to do. Jules was the person you always, always wanted on your zombie apocalypse team.

“Of everyone in this stupid store,” Ava said, “you’re definitely the most capable of rescuing someone’s grandma from a horde of spider-monsters or whatever were in that video.”

“Then why—”

“Because I don’t trust you to come back!” Ava hissed. “You always do this. You ignore inconvenient realities like your girlfriend is fucked up in the head and there are giant spiders in other worlds! Then when the problems get too big to ignore, you run.”

“ … You dumped me,” Jules said numbly.

“Because you never would,” Ava answered. “I would have just woken up and you’d be gone.”

Jules looked like she’d stuck a dagger somewhere soft. Some uncallused piece of them, secreted away from the world and from Jules’s own introspection. You’re only with me because you think you can fix me, she’d told them, during that last, caustic fight. And as long as you’re trying to fix me, you don’t have to think about all the problems in your own life. That’s the last thing she’d said before Jules had stormed out. The two of them had talked on the phone after, and they’d both apologized for the things they’d said, but neither of them had retracted any of those cruel truths.

Ava, for once, thanked her own cruelty, because it let her keep pushing. “Let me just help, for once. I know I’m mostly useless, but it’s too dangerous to go alone.”