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Back The Infinity Courts Save as PDF
Chapters (52)
  1. Dedication
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  52. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

He flinches, jarred by a resistance I’m not even sure I know how to defend.

But all I can think of is the message Dad sends over and over again in Tokyo Circus: question everything.

“I cannot make your pain go away,” he says finally. He turns to walk away but calls over his shoulder as he ascends the stairs, “Take your time, Nami. It is your choice and your choice alone.”

When he’s gone, I turn back to the fountain. It flickers like it’s beckoning to me, and of course it is. My mind and soul are hurting, and this world—whatever Infinity is—it’s trying to help me. These people are trying to help me.

But the perfection scares me. Everything feels like it was created from a computer game. And the way everyone keeps offering me paradise like it’s a coupon for a free ride at a fair…

It’s too easy. And if Dad and his comics have taught me anything, it’s that nothing is ever easy.

Maybe death most of all.

The lights draw my gaze, and I look down the corridor, desperate for proof that my vision isn’t playing as many tricks on me as I feel these people are. And I see it again: the flicker of white lights moving farther down the hall.

I watch them light up, over and over, wondering what it means.

A light. An arrow. A path.

My heart tugs—if I even have a heart left—and I’m certain the lights are calling to me, the way the strange water calls to me too.

Only the lights don’t feel like a trick; they feel like the truth.

And I know I shouldn’t do it. I know I’m pushing boundaries in a place I don’t fully understand.

But I can’t help it.

I follow the lights.

5

IT SURPRISES ME HOW HEAVY my footsteps sound when technically my physical body doesn’t exist anymore, but they thud against the cold floor one after the other, their beat somehow matching the thumping in my head. My nerves jolt my body into a hurried pace, and I chase the moving lights through corridor after corridor, ignoring the nagging feeling that I’m losing myself in a maze I have no way of escaping.

Maybe the rogue lights mean something. Maybe they don’t mean anything at all. Maybe wandering this far means I’m breaking a hundred rules that I don’t even know about.

But I’m already dead. What do I have left to lose?

The unsubtle flicker increases in speed, like a high-voltage spark racing through a wire. It’s telling me to hurry. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can feel it.

The lights are speaking to me.