Her head was spiraling. Her entire body felt heavy, like someone had run her over with a train. Or, more likely, put her under some form of anesthesia. Everything around her was completely black, but she could see faint spots of dim light in unspecific locations. Her brain was mush, she couldn't remember how she got here, even less what she was doing before all this. The last thing she could recall was going to work...

Yes, work. Thatcher remembered it now, even if it wasn't as clear as she wanted it to be. Her job wasn't unlike what the media depicted evil scientists as. It was a covert operation by various governments, which had the role of tracking and studying extraterrestrial things that had somehow found their way to Earth. Thatcher was one of these scientists. Her true passion was engineering, but she couldn't remember if she ever got to utilize this skill in her job. All she remembered was wandering clean halls with her colleagues, carrying something, then entering a room. A room with an old, unknown piece of technology in the center.

The numbness in her body had already begun to fade. There was feeling in her fingers, then her arms and legs. The heaviness weighing her down had lifted. The spots of light grew bigger, until her eyes flew open. Everything was blurry, but she could see blobs of rainbow colors. She could hear voices around her. She could smell something that reminded her of a limited-edition cupcake at a bakery she frequented. She could feel something smothering her mouth and nose.

She reached to touch the device on her face, but something pressed against her wrists, forcing them back down into the bed she rested in. "Don't move suddenly. You are still adjusting." Whispered a soothing voice.

"Where am I..." Thatcher mumbled through the device. "The heck happened..."

The voice remained calm. "You are someplace safe. No worry, please. Keep still." It instructed.

Another voice intruded, this one being snarky and reminiscent of an older teenager. "We found your ass dying on Ixcum. That trash planet is only habitable to a bunch of fish." It spat. "By the looks of it, you definitely aren't a Thsipaissi, but I could be wrong. Who knows. What even are you? A Dibble? A fucked-up Nymph?"

"Violet, questions after the patient has recover." The first voice snapped.

These unfamiliar words left a bad feeling in Thatcher. The rainbow blotches were clearing up, forming into identifiable shapes. The memories were surfacing in her mind. She blinked a few more times, and a pit made itself known in her stomach. She swore she could feel every single cell in her body freeze up individually.

A brown tapestry of rags and lines hung above her, with lights suspended from invisible string. She could make out a snorkel-like object covering her nose and mouth. It was connected to a green tube, which stretched over her body and to a canister on the right. It was like a desperate attempt at a hospital setting, which didn't comfort her. The implications of this didn't help either.

Thatcher could now remember seeing the ancient contraption in the lab being hooked up to various wires and generators. She was one of the ones that had helped in this process. She remembered stepping away with the other scientists. She remembered voices whispering, talking, then shouting. A bright blue light, and something pulling her closer. Then darkness, then waking up here. Where was here?

Her head turned to the left, where she saw something completely unfamiliar. A creature towered over her, staring down with wide, pink eyes that shimmered like those of a dragonfly. On its cheeks were two sets of fleshy tendrils. Its ears were long and narrow, having wide fan-like frills running down them. The creature was covered in crimson fur. Its arms were long and burly, ending in three boney claws, like knives for fingers. It had legs, but they were three-fourths the length of its arms. Behind it was a long, thin tail, with four sets of fins like the leaves of a fireweed.

"I have to be dreaming." Thatcher whispered. "This has to be a dream."

The red creature frowned. "Not a dream." It said, but its mouth moved so slow. Its words never matched its nonexistent lips. "You are in my workshop. Friends found you unconscious. You would be dead if not found by them."

"Like, REALLY dead. Your guts dissolve from the inside-out kind of dead." Chirped that second voice. "Trust me. I've seen it happen before."

Well, at least I have a reason to be grateful, Thatcher thought. She continued to gaze up at this alien. As much as she wanted to scream and run away, she knew doing such an action would be unwise. It was only trying to help her, and it definitely knew more than she did. If she ever wanted to find her way around this unfamiliar space, she would need to talk to it. Understand it. Hopefully, eventually, she would find a way home.

The red alien remained where it was. "Deep breaths." It instructed. "We won't hurt you."

"Or will we?" Sneered the second voice.

"Shut up Violet." It hissed.

This will be fun. Thatcher followed the instructions, and took in slow, deep breaths. Her lungs felt funny. Tingly, yet light and airy, with an unknown sensation she had never felt before. She moved her hands to sit herself up, and the alien didn't usher her back into the bed. She was still dressed in the lab coat she wore before she ended up here, but it had brown and black stains on it. Her glasses were nowhere to be found. They stared at one another. She blinked, but it didn't.

"Where am I?" Thatcher asked again. "Who are you? What happened? I'm not supposed to be here..."

She wasn't, for many reasons. She was only an engineer that was supposed to help activate the portal, not step in. She remembered a man in a metal suit being amongst her group, ready to brave whatever was on the other side. He should've been here, not her. She should've been in that lab with everyone else. Unfortunately, she had no idea what became of them due to her being sucked into the portal first. Were her colleagues safe? Was the designated explorer left behind, or did he get spirited away as well? Were they even in the same alternate dimension?

Thatcher had too many questions, but thankfully, the red alien seemed eager to answer the ones it could. "You are in my house, above Silicon. My name is Atmos, and over there is Violet."

Thatcher turned her head to the right. Next to the door of this small room stood a new being. She had four limbs and a tail, like Atmos. Violet's fur was purple, but the fur on her head was fluffy and puffed out into a casual hairstyle. Sausage-length ears twitched on top of her head. Her red eyes never left Thatcher. Violet had a neutral expression, but it gradually became a grin the more she and Thatcher stared at each other.

Thatcher shivered. "Hey..."

"Hello!" Shouted Violet. "I'm a deranged, insane maniac with magical powers! I may be physically and mentally a pre-adult, but I've existed for thousands of years!" She extended her paw. "Want to be friends?"

That's something you don't get to hear everyday. Then again, this isn't home. Thatcher let out a quiet, tired sigh. "I don't see why not."

"Cool!" Said Violet, as her paw returned to her side. "Say, we never got your name. Or your species. Atmos had a field day trying to figure out the best way to heal you!"

Thatcher returned to looking to her left. She was glad she could feel her heart still beating in her chest. "My name is Thatcher Jeans." She answered. "I'm human... a human? Do those live here?"

"I went through the catalog thirty times over. Not a single one said 'human' or directly resemble your composition. Closest I found were files of ancient Oldisians." Atmos explained. "And out of the Oldisians, the Nymphs share the most with you."

Oh... Thatcher didn't know how to feel about this. On one hand, this was to be expected. Science fiction movies about aliens often used Human actors, but it was only fiction. Not reality. On the other hand, the Nymphs were the closest thing related to her. Considering this alternate dimension, Nymphs could be anything, from bugs to a physical spirit of nature. Again, she had absolutely no idea how to feel about this.

"I see..." she turned back to Violet. "Where did you find me?"

"Me and Black Nebula found you unconscious on Ixcum, which is a planet that was formerly a hotspot for dumping trash onto." Violet answered. She now had a rectangular device in her paws, and she was typing something on it. "You don't seem to be from around here. Where are you from?"

Thatcher's eyes narrowed. "I'm from planet Earth, of the Sol system." She said. "It... it's probably in a galaxy far, far away. Or another dimension, I don't know."

Atmos tapped its claws on its hips, its tail swaying slightly. "Another dimension, hmm? Do you work with dimensional travel?"

"No!" She shouted. She quickly lowered her voice. "Well, sort of? We found this ancient thing and decided to see what would happen once it was activated." She scratched the back of her head. "It was a portal. I was sucked in, but I wasn't supposed to be! We had an explorer who was ready to do that for us, but..."

"You're here instead." Atmos finished.

"Yeah..."

"So you're a species unknown to us and you're from another dimension." Violet stated, gazing from her device. "Wow. A long time ago, we considered each other aliens, but you just take the garden!"

Thatcher didn't know what that expression meant, but it didn't make her feel any better. "So there are no human-like people here? None?"

Atmos's eyes were unblinking. "Told you. Look through catalogue many times. Not find anything except Nymphs and old records of Oldisians." She deadpanned. "However, I am sure somewhere you will find your answer. Not here, but there."

And this means?... Actually, I should ask better questions first. Yes, better questions than why I'm the only member of my species here. And why am I still calm about this. What the fuck. Thatcher just nodded, now feeling an airy sensation in her blood. "How can I understand you?" She asked. "What is this thing on my face? Where am I?"

"Atmos already told ya! You're above Silicon!" Violet blurted.

"Silicon is a planet with tall cities. This however is a satellite neighborhood." Atmos answered. "The device on your face regulates oxygen, nitrogen, hydrogen, and carbon. You understand us because of the translator chip, a certain unorthodox unregistered individual stuck into your scalp without proper regulations."

"Can I stand up?" Thatcher peeped, instinctively reaching to feel her head with a hand. She found nothing. It concerned her.

Atmos, whether by mimicking Thatcher or due to her species' own motion cues, nodded in confirmation. She extended her arm, claws flexed somewhat so that this elusive human wouldn't be hurt. Thatcher, with hesitance, placed one hand on the wrist of Atmos, the other on her breathing apparatus. The texture of the red alien was not as she thought: grassy. It was still an odd sensation, paired with her faulty vision. Slowly, she twisted her body, and let her legs drape off the bed. Her bare feet touched a cold, stone floor, making her flinch.

"See? I was right!" Violet shouted out of nowhere, earning another flinch from Thatcher. "That thing's got serious anxiety! Clearly a Nymph with imaginitationalisphae."

That's another word if I've ever heard one. I'm probably going to hear a lot of these types of words, considered Thatcher. Atmos was quick to reply. "Violet, it is establish that our friend is a Human from another dimension."

"Clearly, someone doesn't know what sarcasm is." Violet sneered.

"I know what sarcasm is, but I do not appreciate it being use in this moment." Atmos retorted.

After getting used to the coldness of the floor, Thatcher put her weight into her feet, and more or less, stood up. She took a few steps to turn around. Her body didn't feel as weak as before. In fact, she felt newly-rejuvenated! She spun her head to smile at Atmos, who retained the same expression. From glancing at Violet, however, the purple alien was more preoccupied with her cellular-device than a being from another dimension.

"I... don't know how to thank you." Thatcher exhaled, feeling grateful to still be alive, just for this moment. "Is there any way I can re-"

"Payment comes later. First, adjustment." Atmos interrupted. "Stay there. I will bring you a mobile regulator."

And so Thatcher did just that. She watched Atmos waddle away, and enter through a passage concealed by rags. With nobody else to turn to but Violet, the two stared at each other. Violet's eyes were red. A beautiful, blood-red iris, but the sclera were more like those of a drug addict. Just underneath the collar of Violet's oddly 2000's green sweater was a small hairless patch. A scar, perhaps? Thatcher knew it would be unwise and impolite to point out such a thing.

After a few more seconds of odd silence, Violet put her cellphone thing in her sweater pocket. "So, you're a Human. Wanna know what I am?"

"Y-"

"Of course you do, silly! I can see a curious animal from a clockwork away." Violet snickered. "I am a Juike. We're supposed to look like this, all furry and cute in the eyes of some species. We all got special powers, too, thanks to some curse we barely know anything about. It's why my eyes are sanguine."

Thatcher's eyes narrowed, feeling a strain from not wearing her glasses. "Gotcha... by any chance did you or the other one find my glasses?" She asked. "I uh, need them. To see better."

Violet's damaged ear flicked. "Glasses? Do you mean optic enhancers?"

Really sci-fi language, ok. Thatcher nodded. "Yeah. They're kind of small, have round lenses connected by a wire, they fit on my face..."

The Juike made an odd sound, like a purr and a laugh at once. "You're on a lucky streak, Thatcher! Black Nebula found something like that while we were dragging your ass onto our ship."

"Then can I have them back?"

"Um, yes. I'm not that evil to deny you your thingy." Violet deadpanned, yet continued to smile. "Oh, by the way, if you do ever want to repay us or whatever, you can do that by going on errands with us. Assuming you don't have anywhere to go, or have a clue what this society is all about, anyways."

A proper protagonist would've questioned this, but Thatcher wasn't proper, or willing to be a protagonist. She considered giving a thumbs-up, but didn't, as she didn't know if the gesture had a separate meaning in this new dimension. If it didn't, then something was wrong. Though, now that she thought about it, seeing two bipedal creatures that spoke orally was already a red flag. The existence of Nymphs intrigued her, and made her wonder why she was supposedly related to them, if at all.

"I'll take anything at this point." Thatcher admitted, leaning against the bed from where she once rested. "I hope you can at least teach me the ways of this dimension before you have me do anything..."

Violet, to Thatcher's surprise, nodded excitedly. "Obviously. Are you listening? Do you have hearing problems too? Are you an old timer? I don't like seeing a suffering animal struggle for survival."

"But I thought you were some insane maniac? What happened to that?" Thatcher inquired. You better not be gaslighting me.

"Oh, I am. Definitely a maniac. Totally a killer, not that you'd be able to tell me on those blue freaks." Violet sneered, baring her teeth in a grin. "They ignore minorities, like good authorities should."

Never thought I'd be considered a minority one day. I'm the whitest woman known to man. Before Thatcher could think of anything else to say, the waddling of Atmos echoed into the room. She had returned with a device much like the mask Thatcher currently wore, except this time, it was a dark, almost black metal. There was no tube, and it instead had a small canister where the connection would be. It also looked like something from a sci-fi movie, which was something Thatcher knew she had to get used to really quickly if she didn't want to go mad.

Atmos held the device to Thatcher. "Only had sizes for Nymphs, but it should be ok. Let me know if it's too loose or tight." She said. "Do not breathe during exchange."

Thatcher assumed she had to put it on herself, so she reached out to take it. Atmos pulled away, and sidled to behind Thatcher at a speed that almost seemed straight out of a cartoon. Following the medical professional's instructions, Thatcher held her breath. She watched as the mask was pulled away, and the device Atmos held was put in its place. As soon as cold metal met skin, Thatcher felt pressure on her cheek bones and the bridge of her nose. Something clicked in place. Something hummed, then was silenced just as quickly.

"Oxygen regulator is in place. Take slow breaths like before." Atmos instructed.

So Thatcher did. She didn't feel a difference between the air she breathed through the regulator and the apparatus from fifteen seconds ago. Nodding in confirmation, she felt some freedom to be able to move around without the potential threat of choking to death. From here, she could see a window past a hallway on the right, near Violet. Slowly, Thatcher wandered away from the bed, and approached this purple alien. She could see everything clearly up close, including the way Violet's fur faded from a diluted lavender to a dark plum. This immortal child, if Thatcher had to guess, had eyelashes on the bottom of her eyelids. When Violet blinked, they gently fluttered.

"I hope you're not challenging me." Violet said. "I'd hate to up your bill to Atmos."

"You owe me too, Violet. Thatcher is not special in this." Atmos spat.

Thatcher put her hands up halfway. "No, no!" She stepped to the side. "That's not my attention at all! I just can't see that well without my glasses- er, optic enhancers."

Violet smirked. "Aight. Glad to see that you're catching on quickly. You're better than those spineless children on Mertensiana." She commented. "Now, get your shoes, we're going on an adventure, you and me."

Obviously, Thatcher had no idea where her shoes could be in this house, but one glance at the floor was enough to flip this ideology on its head. Her socks had been neatly packed in her shoes, which then made her wonder why they were taken off in the first place. The thought of it bothered her, and she quickly dismissed it to avoid spiraling into a rabbit hole. From the corner of her eye, she watched Violet enter the hallway, and disappear behind an edge. She heard the hiss of steam, and a clank of metal.

"Where's she going?" Thatcher asked as she sat on the floor.

Atmos, who was still here, spoke. "Likely retrieving your handicap."

"Handicap? They're just glasses, that's all."

"A loss of vision and requirement for equipment is a handicap." Atmos stated. "Unless you Humans are naturally deficient in visual comprehension."

Thatcher didn't remember what percent of the population had poor eyesight, but it was growing everyday due to screens and other similar technology. She managed a shrug. "I guess that makes sense. Do you see more, or something? Shrimp colors?" She caught herself. "Wait, you probably don't know what that is, sorry."

Vibrations on the floor and a wobbly sound made her assume that Atmos was getting closer. "It's fine. My species can see many more colors than average, if that is what you mean by 'shrimp colors.' I suppose we're both trying to understand each other, yes?"

Thatcher couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah..."

"I could not help but notice you have a limp when you walk." Atmos pointed out. "Tell me: is this due to your arrival on Ixcum, or have you always been this way?"

"Uh... probably the former, I've never noticed it." She deadpanned.

She never thought about her own motions, or if she did, it was only because she was in severe pain. Standing up, she turned around to meet Atmos, who was a few feet behind. The two exchanged stares, before footsteps echoed in the building. Facing the hallway entrance, Thatcher saw Violet return, and following Violet was a much smaller version of her species. This one was a deep, dark purple, with little yellow eyes and short round ears. Instead of a green sweater, this teddy bear wore a pale blue T-shirt and what seemed to be a pair of jeans.

"Oh, good! You're up." Said the smaller being. "I'm Black Nebula. You're Thatcher, right?"

Thatcher nodded. "Yes, I am. Who are you?"

Instead of the teddy bear answering, Violet butted in. "This is the Black Nebula I was talkin' about! Cool, isn't she? She's certainly the best pilot I know in this galaxy."

Black Nebula turned her head away, her ears folded back, seemingly embarrassed. Thatcher didn't question it. Another glance towards Violet showed that she was holding something new, something very familiar. It was something Thatcher really needed right now, and it was something she found herself already reaching for.

"Oh, this flimsy thing? Sure, have them." Violet said. "They're dirty, so Black Nebula washed them for you."

Swiftly retrieving the glasses from Violet's paws, Thatcher put them on, and suddenly everything was much clearer than before. It took her blinking a few times before her sight completely adjusted. She could see a v-shaped cut going down the middle of Violet's left ear. She could also see that Violet was wearing a yellow, sun-like symbol as a necklace, and Black Nebula wore a similar visage, hers being a silver crucifix-like medal. Turning around, Thatcher noticed that Atmos's fur resembled blades of grass, which coincidentally tied into its texture. Every detail in the room was at full force as well, but she didn't allow herself to be distracted by all the vials, lights, and picture frames.

"Doctor, is there anything I need to know before I leave this establishment?" Thatcher croaked, throat suddenly parched. "Do I need to take anything? How do I eat with this on? Do you know if there's a way for me to go home?"

"You're askin' a-many too many questions there, Thatcher." Violet commented.

"No, this is good." Atmos said, bringing a hand up, just for a moment. "Thatcher, I can not prescribe you anything, as Humans are not part of the medical field – or any field, I have knowledge of. The regulator has options to summon a bubble of air around you, allowing you to eat. However, most spaceships will have stabilized breath, but until you are use to the regulator I want you to avoid taking it off."

Thatcher ran her fingers across the regulator attached to her face. It was no longer cold to her skin, but still mildly uncomfortable. "Alright."

Atmos brought her hand down. "As for returning you to your home, I am afraid I have no way of knowing how to do that. I would consult The Empress on such a matter."

Thatcher nodded. She hugged herself. "Thank you. Thank you... so much, for this. You've done enough."

"I wish you luck on your journey."

A smile, but she knew by now that it wouldn't be seen. Violet and Black Nebula were already heading back the way they came, and Thatcher followed. The hallway they passed through had shelves, some windows, and oddly, a gramophone. She could've sworn she saw an old box-style TV and a jukebox too, but she was moving too quickly to get a good look. They were approaching an open hatch, and upon stepping through, walked out onto bare dirt in the vacuum of space.

Everything else Thatcher owned was back on Earth, but from absentmindedly patting her lab coat, she could feel something in its pocket. She fished it out, and held it in front of her. It was her ID card. It had a picture of her, her codename (Denim), the number she was assigned, and a black bar used to activate mechanisms. A silly little system, she could memorize the smell of the detergent and cleaning chemicals used to keep the laboratory sparkling. Along with this card was a handkerchief, which had blue threads embroidered on the cloth's edges. She put both back in her pocket.

Ahead of her, Violet, and Black Nebula, was a fully-fledged science fiction cartoon spaceship, which were the best words Thatcher could use to comprehend what she was seeing. It resembled a bronze shuttle, with a pointed nose and airplane-like wings, but its body was wide and hefty. Painted on its sides were turquoise lines, which went from its nose to the engines. Extended from the cockpit door were stairs, like the ones celebrities took when they exited the planes back on Earth. The spaceship almost looked like it doubled as a house.

As Thatcher got closer and closer to the ship, she was suddenly hit with a realization. "Wait!" She blurted. "How the hell are we still alive? We're walking in the middle of space!" And that's only before I ask how the gravity is consistent with Earth's.

"Forcefield." Violet answered bluntly.

Oh.

"If you want to look at the view from above, go ahead and do it." Black Nebula added. "It's quite the sight to see Silicon from here."

Murmuring something random, Thatcher deterred away from the two Juike guiding her through this realm, and approached the edge of the island. She was still in the vicinity of the spaceship, and she ducked her head slightly as she passed under its wing. A chill ran through her. Dread was pulling at her skin as the end got closer. Her mortality was becoming more aware of her situation, now that she was immersed in the situation. If she stopped breathing, she'd surely explode, but she wasn't dead and she wasn't frozen. She had already reached the border.

From beyond the veil of the forcefield, Thatcher could see an enormous, truly massive ball of darkness looming underneath. Except, it wasn't darkness. She could see spider web-like markings glow, like pictures of Earth's major cities shot from space. She could see a faint atmosphere, a gentle, deep lilac. Stretches of clouds, like faded chalk on a board. It was too dark to see any land mass, but she trusted it was there. She had always wondered what looking down on the world from a satellite was like, but she never expected it to be like this.

And then, she looked up. A completely different scene surrounded her, a collage of purples and blues splattered across a pitch black canvas. There were so many stars, she couldn't even begin to imagine how hard it must be to count them all. There was a swath of white in the void, like a stroke of paint, which reminded her of the Milky Way galaxy. There were things streaking and darting in the distance. Shooting stars, perhaps? She didn't have the words to explain it.

She never realized how small she was until this moment, or noticed how grand the cosmos were, or even a planet. It was oddly comforting, and she didn't know why. Was it reassurance? Dread looping back to bliss? An emotion a Human like herself wouldn't be able to feel unless it was in specific circumstances? So many questions, not that she wanted to ask any of them.

"Coming, Thatcher? We have to go get groceries and stuff if you're gonna be staying with us." Violet called.

Thatcher didn't look back.

"Can't I just stay here?"