She walked down the narrow corridor of her home and into the bedroom. The tiredness seeped through her — it had been a difficult day, but she could rest now. She flicked the lights off and turned to close the door.

  A figure stood before her, just down the corridor. It was fuzzy, she couldn’t made out any of its features. It did not move. She blinked, and it was gone.

  “Looks like I really need this sleep,” she said to herself as attempted self-comfort, but something felt wrong now. The door was shut, the curtains closed, but she still felt uneasy. It was as is something was in the room with her.

  She ducked down on her hands and knees and checked under the bed, the cabinets. She opened the wardrobe and checked between the clothes. There was nothing; not that she knew what she was looking for in the first place. She slipped into bed, and turned her lamp off.

  Once more the figure stood before her, looming over the bed. It was faceless, its body an eerie white. She could not move. The figure bent down and opened its arms wide. It embraced her, and she felt sleep overcome her.

  The black desert stretched ahead of her. Wind rushed past her ears. The tiredness was gone, she had fully awoken and this was no dream.

  In the night sky above a million stars glistened unobstructed, and bearing down on her was a bright moon host to azure seas, green continents, and silky white clouds. It felt comforting to stand in its light.

  Across the desert walked towering quadrupeds. Tall legs that reached to the sky supporting a black featureless body. One of them strode towards her. It’s colossal foot lifted slowly from the ground and came to bear down upon her. She could not find it within herself to run — something in her state of terrified wonder and awe compelled her to remain still.

  The foot landed harmlessly on top of her. The creature was made of a thick black smoke. It lifted its foot once more, and moved away.

  She looked to the moon once more, its swirling clouds hypnotising — and in that moment her mind was pierced. She felt both infinite and infinitesimal, she felt everywhere and nowhere — and then it all came crashing down, and she was just a person again, but now she knew her name. Her name was Anya now. That had not been her name before, and she knew this, but she had been given a new name and she knew that this was to be accepted, not fought.

  Her stomach churned, she fell and her hands landed on soft forest floor.

  ***

  Anya awoke to the soft blue lights of the bunker. It was quiet again, with only the gentle murmuring of people to fill the space.

  “Were you dreaming of the Gateway?” a woman next to her asked. She seemed to be a little older than Anya, and her face was scarred.

  “What?”

  “The big black desert, moon that looks like old home.”

  “How did you know?”

  “You seemed unsettled in your sleep, and I see now that you have the eyes of a newcomer.”

  It was then that Anya noticed the small patches of discolouration within the woman’s irises — thin bands of yellow that lurched out from her pupils.

  “Will my eyes become like that too?”

  “If you are lucky enough to live long in the Tanglements, then yes.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Do you mean in the cities or…?”

  “I mean these… places in general.”

  “Ah,” the woman shifted her posture “I was fifteen when I awoke in the Gateway.”

  Anya suddenly recalled that she was around twenty years of age, though she could not help but feel uncertain about this fact.

  The woman continued, “I would usually be amongst the soldiers, but the sickness nearly got me recently.” She pulled her sleeve up to reveal a mechanical hand. It was skeletal in construction, Anya could not discern anything about how it might have worked. “It’s still a little difficult to move, it’ll be a while before I can hold a spear again.”

  The bunker door began to open.

  “Say, have you got anywhere to go?”

  “Not really no.”

  “If you could give me a hand getting up the stairs I’ll get one of the soldiers to give you some gear.”

  Anya couldn’t be sure what exactly was meant by “gear”, but she had no reason to refuse the offer. She was still lost, very lost.

  They climbed the stairwell together, the woman leaning on Anya for support — she had a metal leg too it turned out. They emerged to find a path of destruction cut through the already ruined city. Where some buildings where flattened, others had been ripped from the ground and now hovered in the air above. All around them was a debris field floating in the air, silent and still.

  The woman gestured Anya to look down the path of rubble. It stopped not too far from where they now stood. At its end was the beast of mortar and steel that had presumably been the source of the ravaging.

  “City Titans,” the woman said, “they have cannons that make things float. Come, lets go and say hello.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “What? Is that safe?”

  “It’s no more dangerous than standing beneath this rubble.”

  Anya looked up to see a building floating directly above them, she quickly started towards the fallen titan.

  There were soldiers clambering atop its body, they used their spears like ice picks to scale its walls and climb inside.

  “Did they bring it down?”

  “The soldiers? Oh no, we can’t stop a titan like that. It probably powered down itself. Maybe its dead, maybe not — you can never tell.”

  Even in its collapsed state the machine towered above them. Despite witnessing it mere hours ago Anya could hardly imagine it walking anymore. The brick making up its body seemed to crumble at the lightest touch.

  “Some of the folks here believe the titans are held together by only the strength of their will,” the woman explained.

  “Their will to do what?”

  “Well that would depend on the titan. Some of them wander the deserts until they collapse, others like our friend here cut through the cities instead—”

  “And sometimes they give you a ride home,” a nearby soldier approached, he had just jumped down from the felled titan’s arm. He extended an arm to the woman and they shook hands.

  “It’s good to see you back, how was the other city?”

  “Destroyed,”

  “Completely? By a titan?”

  “Completely, and we’re not sure.”

  “Okay, we’ll talk about it later,” the woman turned back to Anya “she’s new, looks like no one has really helped her out yet.”

  “Ah gotcha.”

  The soldier led them away from the titan and into a nearby building. The golden spear banner adorned the entrance.

  They descended another stairwell, though this one significantly shorter than the last. At the bottom was a short corridor with metal doors on either side. The soldier produced a key from his pocket and opened the nearest of these.

  Inside was a small room with shelves filled with various boxes. He flicked on a lamp — which glowed a deep blue — and began sifting through the containers, retrieving different items and placing them on the nearby table.

  “Alright, here’s twenty pills for the sickness and fifteen for hops,” he handed Anya a belt with two pouches attached to it. She put it on and checked the pouches — in the right one were pink pills, and in the left yellow. She took the small pouch she already had out of her pocket and dumped the remaining three pills into their respective places.

  “Now the yellow ones should last you a while but soon once the sickness gets to you you’ll be eating through the pink ones.”

  On the table was a small case that he had brought down from one of the upper shelves. He opened it to reveal a boxy looking pistol, and handed it to Anya. She was hesitant to accept it.

  “I know, but you’ll need it. If not in the cities here then definitely elsewhere.”

  She took the pistol. It was heavy, cold, and uncomfortable to hold. She placed it into a holster on the left of the belt.

  “You’ll need these too of course,” in front of her the soldier held two magazines for the pistol — equally boxy. Stacked inside of them were small pyramidal rounds that looked as if they were made of sapphire. “We take them from the titans. Despite how they look they’re generally not lethal — but they make things float. If you’re really stuck you can offload a few into your foot and fly for a moment or two.”

  Anya took the magazines and clipped them to her belt. She could feel the weight.

  “And the final thing—” the soldier began to speak again.

  “Stop, this is too much. I don’t even know your names.”

  The soldier and the woman paused, then laughed a little. “Don’t worry, this is tradition in the Tanglements. We help newcomers out as much as possible. Hold your hand out for me.”

  She held out her palm, and onto it the soldier dropped a small compass.

  “There’s an outpost nearby run by the folks from the Travellers Foundation. You can get more food and pills there.”

  “How did you know—”

  “That you don’t want to stay? Because no-one wants to stay still when they first enter the Tanglements. The longer you spend here the more you’re going to forget who you were, and the more you’re going to search for something to fill that void.”

  The woman spoke once more, “have you felt your name yet?”

  “Yes, it’s—”

  “Don’t say. Our given names are sacred in the Tanglements. Tell it only to those closest to you. If you must give someone a name to call you by then give them an alias, they will give you one of their own too.”

  They left the room and ascended into the city once more.

  “Travel north until the old north becomes new west, then travel new south. You will find them at the edge of another city,” the soldier explained.

  “Thank you.”

  “Welcome to the Tanglements.”