If Gretchen had noticed that Madigan was no longer with them, she gave no sign. She was busy trying doors, peering down corridors, hoping to stumble onto the core.

Adlai watched for a few moments, then walked past her straight down the middle of the room. He could feel the power emanating out from the end of the room. It was almost a heat, the air itself seemed thicker, denser. She should have been able to sense it herself, but she was too far gone by now.

He pulled open the door and immediately took a step back. It was beautiful.

The room was enormous, server after server lined up, all linked into the one display that took up the entire far wall, little lights blinking on and off as traffic moved in and out through its memory banks. Gretchen pushed past him and hurried to the machines themselves, feeling their heat and power, a wrapt expression on her face. Adlai just stood there and watched the millions of dreams flicker in and out of life.

He had to do it for them. He had to act to ensure this place became more than just a playground. You can’t have reality without dreams, and you can’t have dreams if you live in a reality where every wish comes true. Life needs to be dark in order to be realistic. Dreams have a right to their own lives, their own tests, their own goals and fears and nightmares.

He had thought it was going to be hard, but when Gretchen yanked out a cable and the first bank of lights went out, all those dreams and lives ended, it was the easiest thing in the world. He reached into his coat, pulled out the gun he had hidden there and shot her in the spine.

Adlai dropped the gun and slumped down onto the floor. Gretchen had collapsed in a heap and lay twitching on the ground, her eyes staring straight at him. Eventually he pulled his eyes from her body, back up to the wall of lights still flickering on and off. There was still work to do.

You can’t have heroes without villains, and they’re not easy to find. Sometimes they have to be made. In Gretchen’s words you have to break a few eggs.

Break people down. Take their dreams and squeeze them, crush them together and rip them apart in front of their eyes. Give them a reason to fight back. That’s what God did with Lucifer. Created the nemesis he needed then stepped back to watch the show. Let others perform the heroics. Sat in a bar and smoked cigarettes.

“Got a light there, buddy?”

The bartender held one out immediately, but Adlai wasn’t looking at him. He was watching his reflection in the window, and the figure standing directly behind him. It was about time.

Fear worked because it made us confront our own non-being. It gave us a happy thrill when the story ended and we were still there, outside its power. Our emotions triggered and then tamed by our reason.

He’d designed this entire universe to confront death. He was no longer even curious about it, let alone scared. He knew the answers already, or rather, the lack of them. The fact is, no matter what you try to confront it flits away from you. Dances away to remain outside your field of reason.

Fear is the ultimate religious experience. To know it is to confront everything that makes life what it is. To know God. The problem is that understanding this makes it all fade back away.

When he felt the hand on his shoulder he knew there was no point even turning around.