Sherry was halfway through her second coffee when Holly froze mid-sentence.
“Oh.”
“What?” Sherry asked.
“Oh.”
“Holly.”
“Oh, this is interesting.”
“Holly!”
“A video call.”
Sherry immediately groaned. “No.”
Holly blinked. “You haven’t even seen who’s calling.”
“I don’t care. I hate video calls.”
“You hate phone calls too.”
“Correct.”
“You hate unexpected visitors.”
“Also correct.”
“You hate talking to customer service.”
“Obviously.”
“You once ignored a delivery guy for twenty minutes because you didn’t want human interaction.”
“He eventually left the package.”
Holly stared at her. “You are impossible.”
The hologram turned toward an invisible screen floating somewhere only holograms could see.
“It’s Atlas.”
Sherry paused. “Who?”
“The new guy’s Hologram obviously.”
“Don’t answer.”
Holly answered immediately.
A glowing window appeared in the middle of the kitchen. A hologram with silver eyes and ashram yoga teacher clothing with long hair appeared on the screen. Atlas was glowing red. Sherry had thought all holograms glowed green, like Holly.
And unlike Sherry’s glowy companion, who constantly looked amused by everything, Atlas looked like someone who had spent several centuries solving problems and had become mildly disappointed by the universe as a result.
“Hello, Holly.”
“Atlas.”
“Still babysitting?”
“Still judging?”
“Always.”
Sherry slowly backed away.
“Nope.”
Atlas noticed her immediately. “That would be Sherry, I assume.”
“I’m not here.”
Atlas looked directly at her. “You are literally standing in front of the screen.”
Sherry grabbed her coffee. “I’m spiritually not here.”
Atlas nodded. “Understandable.”
“See?” Sherry pointed. “I like him already.”
Atlas looked slightly offended. “You have never met me.”
“Exactly. You’re meeting expectations.”
For the first time, the corner of Atlas’s mouth twitched. Holly gasped dramatically. “Oh my god.”
“What?”
“I think Atlas just smiled.”
“I did not.”
“You totally did.”
“I absolutely did not.”
The screen shifted. A mountain cabin appeared behind Atlas. Large windows overlooked forests, lakes, and distant snow-covered peaks. Everything looked annoyingly peaceful.
Then Wyler walked into view. Sherry blinked.
“Wait.”
Wyler blinked too.
“Oh.”
A pause.
“You found her,” Wyler said.
Atlas sighed. “Yes.”
“You knew about me?” Sherry asked.
Wyler nodded. “Since last week.”
“AND NOBODY TOLD ME?”
“Atlas said you’d eventually show up.”
“Atlas sounds suspiciously confident.”
“He usually is.”
Atlas nodded. “I am.”
Sherry hated that answer. She looked around the cabin. The place looked warm. Bookshelves. Plants. Wooden furniture. A fireplace.
No flying dolphins. No rainbow cannons. No suspicious utopian experiments. Just peace.
“You live here?” she asked.
“Mostly.”
“Why?”
Wyler looked confused. “Because I like it.”
“That’s it?”
“Should there be more?”
Sherry looked horrified. “You discovered reality is a simulation and your response was to buy a cabin?”
“I built a business first.”
“Of course you did.”
Wyler laughed. “What did you do?”
Sherry looked at Holly. Holly immediately pulled up a slideshow.
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
The screen filled with images. Flying dolphins. Rainbow rays. Alien diplomacy. Acid bombs. Tie-dye Holly. The global techno incident.
Wyler stared. Atlas stared. Silence.
“Well,” Wyler said eventually. “That’s certainly one way to process awakening.”
“I was experimenting.”
“You almost started World War Three.”
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“It rarely is.”
Sherry pointed accusingly. “See? This is why I don’t like mature people.”
Wyler laughed again. Atlas looked at Holly. “You weren’t supervising?”
“I was entertained.”
“That explains everything.”
For some reason that answer made perfect sense. A comfortable silence settled over the call. Wyler looked at Sherry for a moment.
Unlike Darrell, who felt like a quantum-entangled black hole with excellent hair and a talent for destabilizing her entire nervous system from several hundred kilometers away, Wyler felt remarkably normal. No spacetime distortions. No inexplicable synchronicities. No sudden urge to question the nature of reality. Just a conscious guy living in a mountain cabin and minding his own business.
He felt solid. Grounded. The sort of person who planted trees.
Which made Sherry deeply suspicious. Finally he spoke.
“You should come visit.”
Sherry nearly choked on her coffee. “What?”
“The mountains.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re being reasonable.”
Wyler looked confused. “That’s a problem?”
“Absolutely.”
“It’s really nice up here.”
“I don’t trust nice.”
Wyler laughed. Atlas pinched the bridge of his nose. Holly was already giggling.
“Come stay for a few days,” Wyler said. “No missions. No saving the world. No rewriting reality.”
“Those are literally my hobbies.”
“Then think of it as exposure therapy.”
Sherry narrowed her eyes. “You planned that joke.”
“I did.”
“And you were waiting to use it.”
“Also yes.”
For reasons she couldn’t explain, she found herself smiling.
Maybe it was the mountains. Maybe it was the cabin. Maybe it was the fact that Wyler didn’t seem interested in fixing her, impressing her, or becoming the center of her universe.
He just seemed genuinely happy.
Which somehow felt stranger than anything else she had encountered since waking up.
“I’ll think about it.”
Wyler nodded. “Fair enough.”
The call ended. The kitchen became quiet again. Holly slowly turned toward Sherry.
“No.”
“You like him?”
“No.”
“You absolutely like him.”
“Nope.”
“You smiled.”
“I smile at dogs too.”
“Hmm.”
“Just don’t start.”
Holly grinned. “Oh, I’m absolutely starting.”
To be continued…
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