season three.
WHO the fuck is avril15?

I can hear music, Pixies, but it's faint. It’s coming from the broken goggles lying next to my body. Pete is standing by me, looking down. My eyes are wide open.

I try to reach out and reassure Pete, but I can’t quite touch him.

That’s when I realise I’m not in my body. I’m watching it, and Pete, from the outside.

So whose arm am I looking at? Have I got a new body?

Because I seem to be getting further away from the old one. Like I’m being carried away on an invisible conveyor belt.

I should probably reel my new arm in case it gets left behind and I end up all elongated like Stretch Armstrong.

“pete”

I try to shout, but it comes out as a whisper, so I just keep repeating it.

“pete. pete. pete.”

I play with the word in my mouth trying to recognise it. How do you form the word “Pete”?

It seems to start on my lips. Then I need to use my tongue, but I’m struggling to find where it is, so I stick it out and press it with my finger to check it’s definitely still there.

Inconclusive.

I pull my hand back and take a look at it. It appears normal… aside from the fact it’s starting to change colour. That can’t be good.

I begin looking at the creases between my finger joints and then I realise they are hinges. So my hand is now mechanical. That can’t be good either.

I look up, expecting to see Pete and my body, the old one, but they are almost out of sight now, a distant pinprick on the horizon and I’m falling into darkness.

I land on a bed of metal chains, like a hammock. I don’t feel a thing. I guess because I’m made of metal now. I try to move and take in my surroundings, but I slip, and can't grip the chains in time.

I fall through them and back into the darkness.

I’m worried that I might be dying. Let’s be honest, falling into darkness isn’t a great sign. I’m trying to piece together what came before. I was being attacked by monkeys and plants. There was an evil voice that called itself The Gardener. She sounded French. Then there was a cloud of something that enveloped my face and now I’m falling. Pretty standard.

I’m wondering if I will ever stop falling, when I eventually see something coming towards me. Crates? Not the loot kind that I’ve seen in the blockchain world. These look just like boxes, big boring brown cardboard boxes.

I land hard on them and their contents scatter across the room. I look on either side of me and realise I’m surrounded by videogames. Most of them are in their cases. Some, which I appear to have crushed, have fallen out. It appears to be a kind of stock room I’m in.

I manage to pull myself up, but as I’m about to put my foot down, I realise I’m going to step on a cartridge. I lift my foot up.

BLOCKCHAIN WARRIORS

Oh my god! I know where I am! I bend over, pick up the cartridge, and run towards the door. I push it and it swings into the pawn shop.

Everything is dark aside from the display cabinets and some emergency lighting, giving a slightly eerie feel. I can’t see anyone until I round the corner and notice a figure behind the counter.

“James?”

“Avril15?”

That’s not the voice I was expecting. I approach the counter.

“Dr Bruce?”

“How did you know my first name?”

“I did…I didn’t…I… I thought you were someone else.”

I put my hands on the counter. Dr Bruce’s face is obscured in the darkness, but he’s a lot taller and less blue than the last time I saw him.

“But… What are you doing here? Where am I?”

“Where do you think you are, avril15?”

“I’m… I guess I’m still in the blockchain world? And… wait… why do you keep calling me avril 15?”

“Because…” he leans forward, “it's time we talked about numbers. There are a lot of different ones floating around here. Have you seen them yet?”

Bruce quickly turns his head from side to side. Is he looking for numbers?

“Ok…” I say, like I’m talking to someone who’s having a breakdown, ”Forget the numbers, where is here, and more importantly, where is Pete?”

“Well, you’re somewhere that Pete can’t follow.”

“Why not!?”

“It’s against the rules.”

“Well… lucky for me, Brucy, because you know I break the rules.”

“This is not a rule you can break. It's a law, like this one..."

He reaches under the counter and holds up a Game Boy cartridge. He lets go suddenly and it drops loudly on the counter, making me jump.

“The same law that makes this game fall towards the ground.”

I nod slowly. Something is up with him. “So what am I doing here?”

“What do you think you are doing here?”

“I don’t know,” I say, exasperated, “but I need to get back to Petey!”

“Then that’s your mission.”

It sounds like he is smiling, but I’m not.

“Well, are you going to help me or not?”

“That’s what I’m here for. Take the game.”

I look down.

BLOCKCHAIN WARRIORS 2: THE SHARDS OF DOOM

“There’s a sequel?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t really like sequels. Never as good as the originals.”

“There are exceptions…”

“Like?”

Suddenly, a noise comes from above. Something is in the ceiling.

“Avril15, I think you’d better leave, quickly, and don’t come back.” He points to the game. “Thank you for your purchase. This one is non-returnable.”

Before I get a chance to ask anything more, I find myself in the night air, walking down the street, squinting as I pass the streetlights with my Game Boy in my hand.

BLOCKCHAIN WARRIORS 2: THE SHARDS OF DOOM

This game was made to help you find yourself…

Press A to continue

I already know what it’s going to say.

Go left onto Ashton Lane

I begin following the same path, but unlike the last time, it’s night and no one is around. Before I reach my destination, I get a second message.

Now go right

Well, that’s new.

I turn slowly and begin walking away from the lights and into the darkness. Suddenly, the Game Boy Screen begins to glow white, illuminating the alleyway.

As my eyes adjust to the bright screen, the text fades and a pixelated table appears. On it, is a bottle. The label reads “whisky”. From the right-hand side a tiny character walks onto the screen. It has a helmet on. The screen reads:

Press A to drink it

I duly press A and the character picks up the bottle, which is four times its size. Every time I press the button, the little pixel character takes a sip. The character starts to grow bigger and more colourful, sip after sip.

Sip.

I realise the “it” is a “she”.

Sip.

In fact, I realise… it’s a “me”.

Sip.

It’s a pixelated avril!

Sip.

She continues to grow. Becoming increasingly more colourful.

Sip.

More colourful than this 16-bit Gameboy should be able to handle.

I hear a crack.

The screen is beginning to fracture like the avril is trying to escape. I press A one more time and the Game Boy explodes, a rainbow of colours surrounds me and then it hits me. I know what’s happening to me. I know where I am.

I’m dreaming…or, perhaps…I think back to my body lying there in the jungle, eyes open..

I'm still there…and I’m hallucinating. Whatever was in The Gardener’s chemicals, they made me trip — trip hard.

The colours swirl around me like a whirlwind and eventually settle, sharpening into shapes as if someone is painting the scene by hand.

I look down.

I’m standing on a giant, gold-rimmed clock face. Next to me… is another me. She’s got a helmet on, so I’m assuming it’s the one from the Game Boy. There is too much going on to take it all in, but I am somehow aware that there are other people, figures. They are standing at the edge of paths suspended over a dark abyss. The paths lead away from the clock. I try to focus on my new friend. One thing at a time.

“It’s a little surreal, isn’t it?” The other avril asks me.

I look at the clockface..

“This isn’t going to melt, is it?”

She laughs, “The clockface? No…It won’t be melting. I’m avril #33, first generation, nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you…” I shrug, “...me?”

She whips off her helmet, Luke Skywalker style, and grins.

“Are you here to rescue me?” I ask.

“No”. She shakes her head quickly from side to side. It’s surreal enough seeing my own face looking back at me, but seeing my mannerisms is even weirder, “But I can help you on your mission.”

“Which is…?”

She bites her lip, “What did Dr Bruce say it was?”

“To find Pete.”

She sighs.

“Well, yeah, kind of. But you have to do something else first…”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“Find yourself.” She indicates the paths leading away from the clock and I realise that they all end in doors. Doors with people at the end of them. Women. All with multicoloured skin tones, hairstyles, outfits and accessories.

“They’re all avrils, aren’t they?”

Avril #33 nods.

“But if you’re number…”

“Thirty-three”

“...then I’m number…?”

“Well, maybe that’s what you need to find out.”

I stare at her blankly.

She points at a path leading to a metal door, the avril outside has a fighter pilot’s helmet on.

“I’d start there.”

I walk across the clockface until I reach 10 o’clock. The path starts at the edge of the clockface and almost looks like glass. It’s transparent with a pearlescent glow. Underneath, I can see the black abyss. Whatever it is, it takes my weight as I step onto it.

As I reach the metal door, I notice it has an open trapdoor at the bottom. My suspicions are confirmed as I reach the avril waiting outside. Her clothes look familiar.

“So what number are you?”

“Actually, I’m numberless, an OG prototype. Everyone calls me Lofi avril.”

“Makes sense. And in there…”

“Yeah, you might want to step to the side.”

I take her advice, and not a moment too soon. Out of the trap door flies a scorpion robot, covered in flames, and a computer chair. They both fall off the path and into the darkness.

“I’m in there, right?”

“Well” says Lofi avril, “Really, I’m in there, but sure.” I look at her, puzzled. “Let’s speed this bit along”.

Lofi avril raises a finger in the air and spins it around. I hear a loud chime and look behind me. The hands on the giant floor clock are spinning. I look back to see a version of me fast-forwarding out of the door, cigarette in mouth and Pete in bag (Pete!).

She zooms right past me without so much as a hello and they both fade into nothing. Another chime sounds and the clock hands return to normal.

“I suggest you go in and have a look.”

I step into the Lofi room. It seems like an eternity ago since I was last here. The ground is wet and the place is a mess. I pick a smiling Stretch Armstrong out of a puddle and sit him on the bed. I look over at my computer. I see an open MSN Messenger notification and my heart skips a beat.

James aka Mr Games says: how’s it going avril, you home already?

James aka Mr Games says: how’s Blockchain Warriors working out for you?

I click on it to open up that chat.

James aka Mr Games is offline.

“Nooooooooooooooooo! Motherfucker! Did you try and contact me, James? After I left the room?”

I try to type some messages but they don’t send.

“What does this mean!?” I shout to Lofi avril, but there is no response. I walk back outside and she’s standing, looking down into the abyss.

I want to ask about James, but she interrupts,

“We did pretty well against a scorpion robot, didn’t we?”

I pause, “...Yeah, we were awesome. I guess Uncle Alex’s training came in handy.”

Then I hear a voice, a man’s, shouting but far away.

“Use your attacker's strength against them!”

The voice is coming from across the clock — another path and another door. I turn to ask Lofi avril a question that’s been bugging me, but she’s gone.

I walk towards the middle of the clockface and I spot a new avril sitting on the edge, next to a path, her head in her hands, looking bored.

I walk over to her and realise she’s younger than I am.

“Aren’t you a little short for an avril?”

Young avril looks up and sighs. I’d put her at around 12 years old, but it’s hard to tell. She’s wearing a fuschia denim jacket with a few sewn-on badges. It matches perfectly with her short swept back hair. She’s chewing something. With attitude.

“Are you a robot?” she asks.

I remember my hands. How could I have forgotten them? They are still metallic.

“I’m not sure to be honest, but maybe. So you’re young avril and I’m old avril, is that right?”

“avril15,” she corrects me. Not the part I was hoping she’d correct.

“Sorry, yes, avril15” That’s what Bruce said too. I thought it was just a username…

“You should go and see Uncle. He says he’s waiting for you.”

I nod, “Will you be ok on your own?”

She drops her head slightly, but holds my gaze, her face still sulky, “Sure.”

I try to pat her on the head as I begin walking up the path, but she pulls away. Kids.

The path is made of cobblestones and leads to the type of swing door you might find in a school or hospital. In this case, it’s a gym. A familiar gym. I peer through the slim panel of safety glass. A man inside in a martial arts uniform has his back to me. Is it really my Uncle Alex?

I push through the door and the man immediately addresses me,

“And so you’ve arrived.”

I recognise the voice.

“Dr Bruce!?”

He spins around, but his face is covered by a samurai mask.

“I’m here to train you in self-defence.”

I blink hard, “No you’re not. You didn’t teach me self-defence, my uncle did.”

“I taught you self-defence, avril15.”

“No, you… you know what? Forget it. Agree to disagree.”

“If your opponent asks to call it a draw, then they know there’s a chance they could lose.”

“Fuck” I tilt my head left and then right, “…you.”

“And where’s my baton? My uncle gave me one during self-defence lessons, so you should have it here ‘Master Bruce’.”

“You’re not going to need the baton this time. Things are a bit different. We have to change things up. We don’t want you getting too predictable, do we?”

“Come again? Look, I’m out of here. Lesson’s over. You’ve taught me nothing. You can wax the fuck on, while I wax the fuck off.”

I turn to leave.

“Avril15, why are you here? What is your mission?”

“ I don’t know… fighting centralisation… fighting a French gardener… monkeys… find myself… I’m not sure anymore.”

“Tell me…What do you really want?”

“To find Pete.”

“Exactly.”

This time I really do leave, pausing only to look back at him practising some martial art moves. I push through the swing doors and step onto the stone path. Young avril has gone. I walk down into the centre of the clock.

Why am I finding Dr Bruce everywhere? First James, now my Uncle Alex.

Damn, I’ve got to stay focused.

“Pete, Pete, Pete…where are they hiding you?” I say aloud to myself.

Just past the number 3 on the clock, I spot a door I haven’t seen before. There’s an amber-skinned avril sitting cross-legged in front of it. Is she guarding it? Could be promising…

There’s no path but a set of stairs leading to the door. I get close enough to notice that there is yellow tape plastered across the large wooden door reading:

CAUTION: NO ENTRY

I wave at the avril. She’s bald, and wearing a baggy blue hoody.

“Hey there, what number are you?”

She looks up at me startled as if she’d only just seen me. She stands up energetically.

“Wow, hi! I’m avril #39, first generation! Pleasure to meet you!”

“I like the Britney look.” I point to her head.

She smiles cutely “thanks!”. I’ve got a cute smile, nice.

“Who’s Britney?”

“Oh…she was famous where I’m from, apparently she went off the rails a bit.”

Thirty-nine looks at me blankly.

“So what’s behind this door? Something dangerous?”

“Oh, I’m sorry avril, I wouldn’t know…”

“No?”

“No, I was just told to sit here.”

“Who told you that?”

“The other avrils.”

“Ok, well, do you mind if I have a look behind the door?”

“Are you sure you want to do that? It says no entry…”

“I know 39, but that’s what makes me curious,” I grin.

“Tell you what, I’ll look first for you!”

“There’s really no n—”

Before I can deter her, 39 pulls the door slightly ajar and pokes her head through the gap. I can’t see what she’s looking at.

“Anything?”

There’s a gurgling sound. Then 39 pulls out what’s left of her head and I scream into the abyss.

“WHAT THE FUUCK!”

Everything above her mouth has melted like thick yellow wax. Her eyeballs are now just resting in the gloopy basin that was her head. They begin to swivel around trying to pinpoint the source of my screams, making the scene even more horrific.

Then I realise 39 seems more afraid of my screaming than the fact she has a half a head. She holds her hands up, defensively? Questioningly?

I try to compose myself.

“39…” I try to say calmly, “your fucking face has melted…like, your entire head.”

She does something weird with her lips, and I realise they have fused together. There’s a ripping noise as she pries them open. I’m starting to feel a little sick.

“Geez, this feels weird.”

“Yeah? Cause it looks… I’ll be honest with you. It looks pretty weird.”

“Avril, I’m sorry. I guess that means you can’t use this door.”

“Yeah… no shit. What are you going to do now?”

“I think I’ll just stay here until the other avrils tell me to do something else.”

“Don’t you… want some medical attention or something?”

“Do you think I should?”

That’s a good question. She seems surprisingly fine and I haven’t seen a doctor avril so far. Plus what would a doctor do… head reconstruction… a head transplant?

“Ok, well, thank you for trying to help, 39.”

“Any time!”

I stare at her as she sits down and crosses her legs. I really hope this is a hallucination and I didn’t just indirectly melt the head off one of my clones.

I walk slowly back to the clock.

If this is a trip, then I feel like it might have just taken a bad turn, but my spirits are lifted when I begin to smell food. I may or may not be a robot, but I could definitely eat something.

There’s a new path. Pink blossoms flanked by bamboo shoots. Oh yes. I knew I recognised the smell. It’s some kind of Asian food, Japanese from the look of the decor. I follow it and am surprised to find a red trapdoor at the end. As I lift it up, the smell drifts towards me. It’s dark down there, but I’m taking the leap of faith. There’s ramen at stake here, I’m sure of it.

I sit on the edge and then jump down. I free-fall briefly, before…

Squelch

That was a big squelch.

I don’t know what the hell I’ve landed in, but I feel like I want to vomit again.

“Can someone turn a light on!?”

To my surprise, I get an immediate response.

“Sure, what’s the magic word?”

“Is that an avril?”

“It is indeed. Number 32, second generation, at your service.”

“32, can I get some light in here, please”

I hear the click of a switch and I immediately regret my request.

The squelching sound was clearly a few of the millions of eyeballs I’m now up to my neck in, bursting under my weight.

“I’m going to be sick.”

“Please don’t. I’m eating.”

I look in the direction of the voice, Defying gravity, the blonde-haired avril# 32 is sitting on the ceiling holding a pair of chopsticks and eating from a bowl of, what smells like ramen, but what is definitely — more eyeballs.

I start dry heaving.

“Avril, please, I’m trying to eat here.”

“You’ve got to be…” I pause for another dry heave “...kidding me!?” I begin fighting to try and get closer to her, but the eyeballs just keep slipping around me.”

“That’s not going to work, avril.”

I grit my teeth “Then, 32, tell me what the hell I should do.”

“You need to relax, and stay still. The exit is below you.”

“And…”

“And put an eyeball in your mouth.”

“Fuck off!”

“Rude. I’m not saying you have to eat it. Although, you really are missing out. They. Are. Delicious”

I watch as she pops another into her mouth. Good god. She holds the next one between the chopsticks and looks up (or should that be down) at me, her own eyes shielded by a pair of spiked sunglasses.

“One for one? An eye for an eye?” She grins.

“I want you to know… that you are my least favourite avril so far.” She grins wider. “Meltyhead avril was much nicer.”

I pick an eyeball and pop it into my mouth. I can feel the saliva building, willing me to puke. But 32 was right, I can feel myself starting to sink.

Deeper and deeper I go into the eyeballs.

I hear the muffled voice of 32 one last time.

“I’ll just turn the light out again. You’ll probably have more fun in the dark.”

I am falling again. It feels like I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Only now I feel nostalgic for the previous falls, when all I could feel was the air around me. Now, it’s the sensation of slimy eyeballs.

Eventually, I fall with a nice soft landing into much better surroundings — a chaise-longue in a dimly lit room with ornate purple lamps. A few eyeballs have fallen with me and when I look up, I can see a small hole in the ceiling from which I appear to have been birthed. A final eyeball is sitting, blocking the way, looking down at me. Ew.

“We meet again, avril.”

I look across the room, following a familiar French voice. A tall woman walks past me and sits on the chair opposite. She smooths her pencil skirt down over her knees and folds her arms across her chest, before resting a finger pensively on a pale cheek. She has feline eyes and flowing dark hair. I finally spit out the eyeball and cough.

“The Gardener!?”

“Is this a surprise for you, avril?”

“Am I hallucinating you?”

“What makes you think you are hallucinating?”

I look up at the eyeball-ceiling-orifice.

“Just a feeling…”

“How long have you had this feeling, avril?”

“Oh gosh, I don’t know,” I shrug sarcastically, “since I beat the shit out of you and then you managed to squeeze in a sneaky parting shot of god-knows-what toxic chemical in my face. I’d say things have been extra specially weird since — wait a minute! Are you therapising me? Is that why I’m on a chaise-lounge? You’re my shrink now?”

“If I am, don’t you think it’s better if I ask the questions?”

“Emmm… I’m not sure I consented to being cross-examined by a sexy femme-fatale nemesis.”

She smiles, “Sexy femme-fatale? Are you flirting with me, avril?”

“I was referring more to the stereotype, which my subconscious appears to have conjured up for you. But generally, I’m not really into people that have set a troop of violent monkeys on me.” I shoot her a fake smile.

“Apes,” she corrects me and leans forward, “so what are you into avril, tell me about your past relationships...”

“Ok, sure, first there was Fuck You, we met in high school, but then I cheated on them with None of Your Business, how does that sound?”

“Hmmm.” She picks up a notepad from a small table beside her.

“Please. Are you doing fake writing? You’re not even a real shrink.”

“Actually, I’m drawing a picture, avril. What about your family? There just doesn’t seem to be any backstory, does there?”
This one starts to stir something inside me, confusion, anger. I realise it’s related to the question that was bugging me earlier.

“I’ve got… an uncle…”

“Do you? I mean, you say you have an uncle, but it turned out it was just Dr Bruce, wasn’t it?”

I grit my teeth, “I did… I do have an uncle. That was just a hallucination. Anyway, major plot hole! “ I wave a finger in the air and point it at her, “You’re obviously a hallucination because I never told The Gardener about Dr Bruce.”

“Oooh, you got me,” she says sarcastically, putting the notepad on her lap and holding up her hands. She reaches over to the table again, this time picking up a box of cigarettes and lighting one. She takes a long drag and blows the smoke towards me. I feel the urge to ask for one, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction.

“Maybe I’m not The Gardener, but perhaps you should be worrying about your own identity right now. Apparently, you're a robot?”

I keep forgetting this. I look at the hinges on my hands again.

“And you’re meeting multiple versions of yourself? I mean, you’re right, I’m not a shrink, but that sounds pretty fucking psycho to me, avril.”

I let that one hang.

I point at the door “Is that an exit, can I go through it without risk of being melted? I’m bored of this now.”

“What did the other avrils tell you?”

I hesitate, “To find Pete.”

“Good. And did they say anything about the clock?”

“The clock? The giant clockface?”

“Yes.”

“No, but one of them fast-forwarded it a little.”

Her eyes widen, “Well, that’s not good. That was cheeky…”

“Cheeky, why?”

“Because that clock is a timer, avril. And if one of your friends is speeding it up, then you have less time.”

“Less time…”

“To find Pete! They were being honest about that. But when the time runs out you will be trapped here forever.” She shrugs.

My pulse quickens, “Wait, is that how they all got here? The other avrils? Are they trapped here because they didn’t find Pete in time?”

“Why don’t you ask them? Or.. better yet, why don’t you just concentrate on finding Pete?” She shrugs.

“Ok, ok. How do I get out of here? Don't tell me I have to go back the way I came.” I point at the ceiling, deciding not to look at it.

“Don’t worry, I’ve drawn you a diagram…”

She turns her note notepad to face me.

“That…is not a diagram. That is a picture of me…meditating? Praying? Surrounded by eyeballs.”

“I don’t make the rules, but that’s what you have to do.”

“Riiiiiight.”

“On you go.”

I reluctantly sit up on the chaise-lounge and put my legs in a basket. I push my robotic palms together.

“Ok, now close your eyes. And focus on your breath.”

I do as she says and realise it’s very hard. My mind keeps coming at me with new thoughts and I keep getting distracted.

After a few minutes, I hear movement in the room. I open my eyes instinctively. The Gardener is still sitting there, watching me, but several of the eyeballs that were lying scattered across the room begin moving. Slowly at first, wobbling, but then they begin lifting up into the air. Soon they are moving around the room and I realise they are circling me. They pull in closer and form a ring around me. The room’s violet lights begin shining brighter and a loud hum fills the space. Something’s happening.

“Au revoir, avril!” she shouts, over the hum.

“Hey! How long do I have!?”

“What!?”

“To find Pete!? When does the timer run out!?”

“Take a guess, Cinderella!”

And with a whoosh, the room disappears.

I’m back, sitting cross-legged in the centre of the clock. The spinning ring of eyes shoot out into the darkness. I look down. Quarter to ten. If psycho-Gardener’s pointlessly cryptic clue meant what I think it did, then I’ve got about two hours to find Pete.

All the previous paths are gone, but before I can get up to look around, a new avril appears in front of me. She’s quite unlike the rest: bright yellow light shines from her eyes, translucent skin reveals an anatomy wound with stars, and on her head sits a crown of writhing red and blue snakes. She presses her palms together, like I’d been doing not a moment before, and bows gently.

“You look different,” I raise my eyebrows, “done something new with your hair?”

I can’t tell whether she’s smiling.

“I’m from the third generation of avrils,” she says slowly, “I have abilities the others don’t…and so do you.” She says

“Well, apparently I can teleport. And yet I don’t have the ability to find Pete. The only ability I care about right now.”

She bows again. What’s with the bowing?

“I’m here to help with that too. I’m here to unlock new paths…”
She separates her hands, opens her arms either side of her and closes her eyes. The void bursts with light — a multicoloured swirling vortex floating with planets and strange shapes. There are also windows onto strange objects: a rubber duck, cartoons and comics. Are these memories? But memories from my past, or someone else’s? More importantly, I realise new paths have appeared leading to new doors.

“Well that’s impressive. Can you do anything else?”

“I’m only here to unlock new paths. Now I must leave.”

“Really? Come on…” I press my own hands together again and give a tongue-in-cheek bow. Her snakes jump into cobra-strike formation — they didn’t like that.

“Just.. I don’t know… can I listen to something? I left my fancy music-playing goggles with my other body.”

The snakes relax, and I finally get the smile I’ve been waiting for.

“You can do that yourself, avril.”

She gives a final bow and disappears into thin air.

I look down at the clockface. Ten to ten. I’m going to have to find Pete myself, and quickly, but if snake-head avril was right, and if this is my hallucination, the least I can do is manifest a little music while I work.

“Yo, subconscious! Can you stick on some tunes please?”

At once, the entire clockface shakes and I fall forward. A piercing ring echoes from it, followed by loud chimes. They subside into a familiar metronome that I recognise instantly.

“Time, Pink Floyd. Nice.”

I pull myself up and I begin running up paths and frantically searching behind doors, hoping that none of them have head-melting capabilities.

The first door opens into the interior of a wooden cabin. As I walk through, the sounds and smells of a damp forest greet me. There’s nobody around, but the broken glass on the floor gives the impression someone left in a hurry. Among the broken glass I find a journal. The front cover is covered in red scribbles. I open it. Inside there are more scribbles, on every line of every page — like a child pretending to write. Outside, the noise from an insect bursts through the humidity and makes me jump. It’s not a chirp but a shrill cry. I put my hand to my chest before I continue thumbing through the journal. I reach the final page and the scribbles are replaced by two words

“GET LOST!”

The insect stops. My heart stops. I drop the journal. I’m getting seriously bad vibes, but I came here for Pete… I have to try…

“Pete?” I ask tentatively.

Then, what I’d thought was an insect screams back,

“PeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETEEEEEE!”

More join in and form a creepy choir.

It’s flight or flight time, and I’m out of there like a shot, slamming the door behind me.

I shudder. Whatever the hell that was, it wasn’t Pete. And if it was an army of giant bugs, I don’t want to know.

The second door I try opens to reveal a bald purple-skinned avril standing on a battlefield and walking towards me. She’s wearing an anorak covered in multicoloured badges. Butterflies flit around her. On top of her head is a crown.

“I’m avril #196, but you can call me the Queen of the Open Faces”

“Queen of… eh, that’s nice… your highness. Is Pete here?”

“There was a Pete here, but a bunch of strangers were petting him. He got scared and ran off.”

“Really? In which direction?”

The Queen of Open Faces shrugs.

“Thanks,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “you’re a big help.”

She frowns and then, without warning, her face splits into four pieces and opens up to reveal a bright shining light. For a moment, I’m frozen to the spot.

“I’m… sorry for disturbing you…your highness.”

I close the door on her open face. That was weird. I suppose The Gardener did say these avrils were giving me the run around.

The music changes to Gwen Stefani’s “What You Waiting For”, a song I grew to love back in the lofi room.

“Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock”

I can see there’s a theme to this playlist.

The third door I approach is made of glass. It slides open onto a bright white art gallery with wooden floors. There’s a glass ceiling which has a broken pane. There’s glass on the floor beneath it. Something must have fallen through.

I’m getting a strong sense of déjà vu.

I approach the nearest portrait. It’s a young guy with a blue face, but it's split, revealing circuitry. “Who is this dude? And why has he got some sort of squirrel… mon—”

There’s a jolt and the room seems to lurch. The nicely polished wooden floor works as the perfect slide and I’m sent hurtling back out the doorway, which thankfully slides open before I smash through it. As I get to my feet, it slides shut with a bang.

“Rude!” I shout into the abyss, which is now playing a song I recognise from that Inception film, one of the more disappointing films I remember watching in the Lofi room. I look around, still so many paths to take and it’s already 11 according to the clock.

The next two doors don’t open, so I’m relieved when the following one, white with a black handle, does. However, my relief turns to utter disbelief when I see what’s inside.

An objectively handsome man, the first non-Bruce man I’ve seen since I first entered the blockchain world, is sitting on a barstool wearing a fitted suit. I mean, I get that different people have different tastes, and he might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but they would still have to admit — that is what objective handsomeness looks like.

Slightly compromising the overall effect, however, is the fact that he’s randomly holding a bowl of water.

“Hey avril! It’s me…”

Mr handsome gets up off his barstool, puts down his bowl of water, and begins walking towards me, positively smouldering.

“The one you’ve been looking for… Pete.”

A loud screech, the sound of a needle scraping across a record brings the Inception music to an end (no big loss).

“It’s funny. You’ve been looking for me, avril…”

“Nope!” I slam the door in handsome Pete’s face and attempt to shout through it,

“Too weird! Not having that! You’re definitely not the Pete I’m looking for!”

I stare into the white door and look down at the handle. It doesn’t move. I think he got the message. I turn and walk back across the clockface. Damn, I’m running out of time. I also have no leads.

I pull open the next door, an inconspicuous grey one at the bottom of a tiled path. There’s an avril standing right in the doorway who nearly makes me jump out my skin. My metal skin... She’s orange-skinned and wearing a studded leather waistcoat — a bold choice. She’s holding her side and I realise she’s bleeding.

“You ok?”

“I’m fine,” she pants, “I was fighting with the other avrils.”

“You kids shouldn't play so rough. Somebody's gonna start crying.”

“I’m fine,” she repeats, “I’ve got something to show you.”

Like the “queen” I met before, this avril’s face opens, but instead of light, I can see flowers and trees. I decide not to run this time, but as nothing else happens, I move closer and peer inside her head.

I can see a jungle. And I can see…me — old body me! And…

“Pete!”

He’s lying next to my body, standing guard.

“Petey!”

avril’s face closes again and Pete is gone.

“Ok, this is going to sound weird, but I need to get inside your head. Literally.”

“That’s not the way, and he’s not the Pete you are looking for.”

“Says who?”

“Me, number 159, second generation.”

“Wait, don’t tell me I’m trying to find the suave man-Pete I ran into before?”

Number 159 laughs, “He wishes… No, you’re searching for a different Pete, and don’t worry, when you see him, you’ll know.”

“Finally, a lead! But can I trust you? The Gar— someone… said you might be trying to hold me back, keep me here.”

She gently shakes her head, “What’s the world coming to, avril, when you can’t even trust yourself?”

I fold my arms and bite my thumbnail.

“That’s the problem, 159. I’m not sure that I can trust my selves, aka you.”

She raises her eyebrows and nods in reply. Then her head turns slowly to the side. She’s looking at something,

“The queen’s coming back, and I think she’s after my head. I better go. Follow the flowers next!”

She closes the door on me.

“Well, apparently that’s all I’m getting from flower-face.”

As I walk back down the tiled path I find another one leading off from it. It’s made of soil and lined with grass and a few flowers. Follow the flowers. Might as well.

Inside is a field of heather. I walk into it. This feels familiar, like the white gallery did. However, unlike the gallery, I realise where I know this field from! It came to me as a childhood memory when Dr Bruce was talking to me from the ring of mushrooms. A heather-covered cliff path. And then I dreamt about it that night. I was running from something and jumping. And I fell…

I walk towards the cliff edge. The sea lashes up against the cliff. I don’t feel like jumping today. Things have been too weird already. I walk back towards the door. If this is a childhood memory, then when did it happen? Who was I with and where was it?

I walk back out trying to remember and notice the time has leapt forward. It’s now half 11. I might only have 30 minutes left, and I’m busy worrying about one existential crisis when I appear to be actually in another one.

Just then, I hear a sound I recognise. A ringing, but not a clock ringing, a phone, a ringtone… my nokia!

I run to the door the sound is coming from and pull it open. Inside is a pitch black room, lit only by a spotlight which is aiming down at a red podium. There’s something on it.

I walk towards it and pick it up. It’s my Nokia! I can tell by the worn buttons!

It’s still ringing. I look at the screen

James aka Mr Games

Answer

I slam my thumb down on the answer button.

“James!”

There is distortion on the line.

“avril…are you there?”

“James, oh god…is that really you?”

“Avril, yes, it’s me. Are you ok? Where are you?”

“I’m… I…”

My emotional dam bursts. I begin sobbing.

“Shit… avril, I haven’t seen you since you left my store… what happened?”

“I…I don’t know, James. A lot has happened, I don’t know how to explain it.”

The line crackles again and I don’t hear what he says.

“James, is that really you? Or…or is this like, The Gardener?”

“The who? avril, I’m really worried about you.”

“I am too…”

“You’re…” the sound cuts out briefly, “You’re running out of time.”

“I’m… what?”

“I told you what your mission was…”

His voice has changed.

“James… Dr…Bruce?”

“FIND PETE, AVRIL!” Dr Bruce’s voice is yelling at me. “PUT THAT PHONE DOWN AND FIND PETE!”

I barely have time to react when the phone begins heating up. So much so, that it begins burning my hand. I throw it across the dark room. The spotlight follows it and I’m left in darkness.

Then I can hear a noise. Something dragging across the floors. A constant but rhythmical dragging. Something is coming for the phone.

I’m wishing I had my baton with me when the source of the noise is revealed. A giant 6-metre-long snake towering over the phone. It scoops down and swallows the phone, continuing towards me without pausing. The spotlight is focused on the dark-green serpent it literally snakes towards me.

A little voice in my head says,

“Ahhh…Nokia…Snake.”

And a second voice screams,

“Run!”

I listen to the second voice, turn and make my way back to the door as fast as I can. The snake is gaining on me, but luckily the exit is nice and close.

I fly through the door and stumble all the way down the path, landing hard on the clockface with my knees. I’m relieved to hear the door shutting hard behind me. I look down at the clockface. It’s telling me there are mere minutes to midnight.

It’s all getting too much... I look up and scream into the abyss.

“Snakes! James! Dr Bruce! Other avrils! I don’t fucking know who I am any more! I don’t know where I am! Am I tripping? I don’t know if I’m a robot…a fucking clone! I don’t know what number I am! I saw a version of me get its head melted off! Another me is eating eyeballs…At least she has a fucking sense of identity! A fucking taste for eyeballs! I’m none of these avrils! The only thing I have in common with them is none of us have Pete! And I’m fucking nothing without him! I’M AVRIL FUCKING NOTHING!”

I scream again, so hard it feels like the air around me is shaking and then…I realise it is. Everything is shaking. The paths, doors and windows begin falling, slipping into the abyss.

Well, I've done it now.

They continue falling until, finally, only one door is left — a door covered in symbols I haven’t seen before. There is no path leading to it. But before I can think of a solution, a giant chain chain is lowered from the dark abyss above me and stops between the clock and the door.

The clockface is moments from midnight. I’m out of options anyway. It’s Tarzan time.

I leap for the chain and swing cleanly through the door.

I’m in another dark room lit by a spotlight. No signs of snakes, but there’s an avril standing in the middle of it.

This one is wearing blue-tinted sunglasses and goggles (definitely overkill). She has a pink vest over a white t-shirt and her fighter pilot helmet has ivy growing out of it.

“Congratulations avril, you’ve made it.”

She gestures behind her back and another spotlight rests on a large door. It’s wooden, ornate, like something you would find in a castle. It’s also covered in glowing symbols, like the door I came in through, which seems to have disappeared.

My instincts are telling me not to trust her: maybe it’s the double glasses thing. It could also be the fact that her hands appear to be dripping with blood.

“Behind that door is the Pete you’ve been searching for.”

“Fantastic. Sounds simple. I’ll be on my way then, I suppose?” My voice echoes through the dark silence.

“Unless you want to bring the houselights up and reveal what’s hiding in the darkness. I hope it’s not something scaly this time…”

She laughs. It’s not a pleasant laugh. I guess we all have a mean side.

The room gradually fills with light, revealing it to be a gigantic circular room, like a futuristic colosseum. Except, instead of seats, there are hundreds of metal doors.

They suddenly slide upwards to reveal a unique avril behind every door. Each one of them takes a step forward into the light.

I try to take them all in. Such variety in colour, clothes, hair, with all these accessories and strange traits. Some of them I’ve seen before, most I haven’t.

“Well, hello…me.”

I offer them a little wave.

Only one waves back. It’s my unfortunate friend, the one who sacrificed her head for my curiosity. I smile at her.

“That door can only be unlocked by the one true avril”, my new frenemy is talking again.

“Oh really? And you are avril…”

“Avril #63, second generation.” She says, gruffly.

“Yes. And how do we decide the one true avril? Draw straws?”

I look around the room. Many of the avrils seem to be smirking and sixty-three stays silent.

“No, of course not. No straws. I have to fight you all, don’t I?”

Avril #63 takes off her helmet. She’s also smirking. She pulls her fingers into the shape of a gun and pretends to fire it at me.

“Me versus like 500 avrils… that doesn’t seem fair at all. It’s so predictable too. Can’t we think of some other way to resolve this? Game of cards? Pogs?”

The smirk on the smirky avrils deepen. Some begin cracking their knuckles, and the rest are also looking pretty fighty. Shit.

“You don’t have to fight!!”

All the avrils, including me, are startled by the voice. I realise immediately who it is.

“Meltyhead!” I shout, as affectionately as I can. I’d recognise that gurgle anywhere.

Sixty-three shouts at her, “Thirty-nine, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to wipe that smile off your face, and since it’s the last facial feature you’ve got, I’d recommend doing what I say.”

But meltyhead avril#39 has spirit, “You just need to—”

“Thirty-nine!”

“—do what you were told to do when you teleported.”

Sixty-three runs at thirty-nine, but thirty-nine is ready. She pivots her body and sends sixty-three flying to the floor. The other avrils aren’t sure what to do, but thirty-nine is already walking towards me.

She’s facing me now…as best she can.

“Go on avril. I’ll happily be the first.”

“Do what? Close my eyes and focus on my breathing?”

“To start with, yes.”

Anything seems better than taking on 500 avrils, so I do what she says. She is giving me the same instructions as The Gardener, but begins adding more. Focus on this. Notice that. Realise, observe, realise that you are not observing.

I feel the boundaries of my body disappear into one field of energy and then, somehow, I feel thirty-nine’s energy too.

“I’m ready,” she reassures me.

I feel something. The mental equivalent of a loose thread. I pull it and open my eyes.

Thirty-nine seems to be glitching. She’s covered in symbols, code and then she disintegrates. Not like the way her head melted, like wax, instead she glows white and seems to unravel. With a jolt, she’s absorbed into me until nothing remains.

The rest of the avrils look even more stunned than I am, sixty-three most of all. She’s awake and looking up at me from the floor. She takes a deep breath and screams to the others,

“FINISH HER NOW!”

They follow her command. How depressing is that? Apparently, I hate myself 500 times over.

I close my eyes again and this time I arrive instantly. I feel, almost see, the loose threads around me, ready to be pulled apart. So I start with sixty-three.

I can hear her getting closer and closer, but then the sound of her running disappears and she’s absorbed.

I open my eyes and watch the room explode with white flashes as I literally pull my selves apart. It’s like being under a strobe light — only this dance is not ending well for the other avrils.

As I draw the other avrils in, I realise that I am growing. Growing stronger? I’m not sure… but by the time the last avril flashes out of existence, I’m feeling awakened, charged.

I take a deep breath. I breathe in the room and the silence.

Before I can approach my goal, the ornate door, a familiar face appears in front of me. It’s got snakes on its head.

“Ms third generation…I didn’t catch your number. Nice to meet you…and your snakes… again. I think I met daddy snake by the way.”

The snakes hiss in response, but the third generation avril looks a lot less hostile than the others were.

“The avril first and second generation are dead, long live avril15!” She shouts.

“You’re not going to give me trouble, are you? Don’t make me absorb you…”

“I’m not. And neither are the others.”

Suddenly hundreds of new avrils appear, each more fantastical than the next: eyes where they shouldn't be, some with extra faces, a few who seem to be wearing actual planets. These avrils are next level.

“Woah.”

“We come willingly, avril. We come to prepare you for your royal appointment.”

Snake-head indicates the door and then she and the other avrils begin walking towards me. I don’t even have to try, they turn white on their own and flow straight into me.

I take a moment to enjoy this new feeling of equanimity and then I notice my next thought as it appears: you’ve got a door to open.

I walk towards it, my body coursing with something like adrenaline. but with none of the nervous energy that usually accompanies it. I’m unexpectedly calm.

The ornate door has no space for a key, just a heavy, old-fashioned bolt that needs to be pulled to the side. As I wrap my hands around it, white light flows from my hand into the bolt, into the door, running up the grain of the wood and into the symbols. The bolt begins to give way with a loud screech. I push it open.

The room before me is similarly ornate, a throne room, but everything is much larger than it should be. Golden candelabras, royal blue curtains either side of massive stained glass windows. A throne room for a giant?

I turn to my right and find the giant, my giant, sitting on his giant throne.

“PETE!”

This isn’t my Petey, but the others were right, I know immediately that I’ve found the Pete I was looking for. The throne he is sitting on is, I guess, really more of a royal dog bed. The cushion is about as thick as I am tall.

Pete himself must be nearly 10 metres tall. His fur is glowing a dark pearlescent, the black highlighted with purples and greens, like an oil slick. His eyes are entirely white, glowing. A golden crown with a number 15 engraved in the middle sits on his head. A blanket of purple energy swirls around him. He is looking at me, scrutinising me.

“Pete! You’re a king!? It really…suits you.”

And then, of course, because so little has made sense up until now, he speaks,

“AVRIL?”

It’s a loud, deep voice, which echoes around the chamber. Not the voice I’d given my Petey in my head, but befitting of this giant royal Pete.

“AVRIL IS THAT YOU? ARE YOU THE AVRIL I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR?”

My body surges and glows white for a second, as if reacting to Pete’s question. I can feel my eyes begin to glaze with tears.

“IT IS YOU!”

His giant tail starts wagging, the room shaking as it makes contact with the floor.

“AVRIL I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE HERE!”

“Oh, Pete! King Pete! I’m so happy to see you. I have so many questions.”

“I KNOW, AVRIL. AND I HAVE ANSWERS FOR YOU.”

“Really?!” I take a deep breath, “Oh god. Where to start…ok, where am I?”

“HMMM, IT’S DIFFICULT TO EXPLAIN. IF THE WORLD YOU LEFT IS A TAPESTRY, THEN YOU ARE BEHIND THAT TAPESTRY. THAT’S WHY MANY THINGS MAKE LITTLE SENSE TO YOU HERE.”

“And is my Pete safe? Back on the other side of the tapestry?”

“HE IS SAFE. HE MISSES YOU.”

I feel my lip quiver, “Wait, ok, ok, but are we talking about the blockchain world, or the real world? RoboPete or real Pete?”

King Pete pauses.

“ROBOPETE IS REAL. AND RIGHT NOW HE IS SAFE.”

“Yes, but…” I don’t want to offend him.

“THE ENTITY YOU REFER TO AS REAL PETE IS ALSO SAFE.”

I breathe a sigh of relief and try to digest this. Another important question floats into my mind.

“King Pete, I need to know something, is Dr Bruce evil?”

“NOBODY IS INHERENTLY GOOD OR EVIL, AVRIL.”

“Yeah, that’s what he said when I first asked him. And it’s also what the baddies say. But if you know me, Pete, then you know what I mean by evil. You know what qualifies as evil in my books. So, by my standards, is Dr Bruce evil?”

“NO, HE’S NOT.”

I breathe another big sigh of relief.

“Ok, and can I trust him? By my standards, is he trustworthy?”

“ULTIMATELY…” he hesitates, “NO”

Shit.

“But this mission he’s given me, is it important?”

“VERY.”

“And if it succeeds it will be a good thing…by my standards?”

“YES.”

“Ok, well that’s good to know.”

King Pete nods.

“What about me? I still feel lost.”

I look down at my hands and realise for the first time that they are no longer made of metal.

“I don’t think I know who I am anymore… I’ve just killed myself hundreds of times over. That’s not healthy, is it?”

“YOU DIDN’T KILL ANYONE, AVRIL. YOU ABSORBED THEM AND THEIR TRAITS. YOU ARE COMPLETE. YOU ARE AVRIL15.”

“So that’s my number, 15?”

“YOU ARE 15, YOU ARE 14, YOU ARE, 114. YOU ARE ALL THE AVRILS NOW.”

“I do feel pretty full,” I grin “… does that mean I get special powers?”

“YOU’VE ALWAYS HAD SPECIAL ABILITIES. YOU JUST NEEDED TO UNLOCK THEM.”

“So what can I do?”

“YOU CAN LEAVE.”

“Oh… return to the jungle and RoboPete?”

“YES. YOU JUST NEED TO CLOSE YOUR EYES LIKE YOU DID WITH THE OTHER AVRILS AND SEARCH.”

I do as my king bids. I close my eyes and once again can feel the energy around me. Then I notice it…another loose thread, but this one is different, heavier. I have to concentrate harder before pulling, heaving it into existence.

I hear a loud clunk.

Another giant metal chain falls from above and rests between me and King Pete.

“TAKE HOLD OF THE CHAIN.”

I step forward and wrap my hands around it.

“Before I go. You have to tell me, why are you a King, King Pete?”

“ISN’T IT OBVIOUS, AVRIL?”

My cheeks flush.

“I STAND BEFORE YOU NOW AS A KING, FOR ONE SIMPLE REASON… BECAUSE YOU TREAT ME LIKE ONE.”

I have to gulp that one down.

“Aww, Pete…”

“AVRIL, BEFORE YOU GO, I ALSO MUST TELL YOU SOMETHING. SOMETHING YOU NEED TO KNOW.”

I nod.

“THE PATH BEFORE YOU IS NOT GOING TO BE AN EASY ONE, BUT IN THIS NEW WORLD, WHEN TIMES GET TOUGH AND THOSE YOU LOVE ARE OUT OF REACH, YOU CAN ALWAYS RELY ON THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS.”

“I can? What—”

“—GOODBYE, AVRIL. YOU WERE WORTH THE WAIT.”

King Pete nods his head and the chain is pulled with force into the air. Avril15 holds on as she flies through the air and the strange world below disappears into darkness.

Avril is lying in the jungle clearing. All traces of apes and machinery have gone. Next to her, on guard, is Pete. He notices her stir and decides to help her wake up.

I can feel something wet against my right ear.

I know what that is!

I open my eyes and turn to finally see the face I’ve been searching for.

“Pete! My RoboPete!”

He’s been licking my ear. I sit up and lift him onto my lap, hugging and squeezing him and he’s absolutely loving it. We are reunited and waves of joy are rippling through me. King Pete was right, he is real. He is my Pete.

After a long period of hugs, I finally put him down on the ground. As the excitement ebbs, I realise my feet are feeling cold. I discover that the Converse I’d been wearing are now lying next to me, as well as my multicoloured socks. I’m barefoot! And to my absolute horror I can see something on one of my toes. Some kind of label has been tied to my big toe.

“PETE!” I scream.

He lowers his head.

“OH MY GOD! DID YOU LET SOMEONE NEAR MY FEET!!”