“How long do you think we’ve been walking,” A young man had asked the other. They both held a tired, yet anxious look that had been all too common for the past few hours.
“I honestly don’t know,” the other said.
Two days prior, the two young men had been presented with an option to press a large red button that sat upon a talking metal box. Only pushing it at the same time on a whim, the two did not know that they were about to embark on an incredible quest.
“I need’ya both to stop for a moment,” a British voice called to them.
“Hey, isn’t that—-,” one of the young men started, looking around them with a look of bewilderment.
“Yeah,” the other finished, “It’s the voice from the box.” He stood transfixed, pointing at a spot in midair that seem to be contorting in front of their very eyes.
The young man that had pointed was awestruck, the other followed suit as soon as he had noticed. The shimmering illuminations were nothing more than an almost completely transparent blotch of ink. The abstract blotch that contorted the image of the evening sky seemed to be swirling, absorbing itself, growing darker as it did.
The blot had almost turned into nothing when it suddenly outstretched, forming a deep, violet portal just large enough for the two of them to step through.
The young man’s pointing arm must’ve gotten too heavy. He dropped it as both of them wore an expression of awe-stricken confusion, mouths widen.
A man was thrust forward from the violet shimmer, taking a knee as he landed in front of the young men. He was dressed in a three piece suit, a thin tie around his neck and his balding head a strange sheen that had match his tattered but well cared for shoes.
“Even’, gents,” he said, a eerie grin pushing the toothpick in his mouth to the side of his face. As he stood up, one of the young men pointed at him again, in a manner of shock or utter terror.
“Ey, don’ do that. Din’t ye mum eva tell’ ya tha’ it’s rude to point,” he said.
The young man dropped his hand. “Yeh, tha’s betta. Now, you lot need names,” he said.
“W–we have names,” one of the young men said.
“I know that, but they don’ know that,” the suited man said, pointing his finger up in the air.
“Who’s they,” the other young man said with a look of confusion. The suited man started smiling.
“You two rememba tha’ red butt’n ya’ pushed a few days back,” the suited man asked, ignoring the question. “This,” he continued, spinning as if to present himself, “is wha’ ‘appens when you go round pushin’ those big red butt’ns.”
The man in the suit seemed more happy than upset at this notion, but after a few moments longer he could tell the two young men still didn’t understand.
“Ohkay, here’s the deal you two: Throughout history there’ve been great a’ventures that’ve spanned beyond the known universe and captured the love and attention of all those who know abou’it,” he said, turning away from the two and spreading his arms wide.
He turned back, elbows to his hips, pointing his fingers like six guns, “you two are what the people like nowadays: A dynamic duo. Firs’ things firs’, you are no longer the story tella’,” he said pointing at one of the young men.
“Why not,” the young man asked, not knowing very clearly what the suited man had meant by that.
“The boss,” he said pointing up at the sky again, “wants it to change perspective just a bit. So, henceforth, your name is Edgar.”
Edgar, stone faced for a brief moment, started feeling swimmy-headed. He looked down at his hands, looking as if he was feeling a sense of resonance, perhaps from another dimension.
“Yeah, no, I don’t feel any different,” Edgar said.
“Don’ worry,” the man in the suit said, looking as if he had too much to explain and not enough time to explain it. “You’ll get used to it.”
The other young man who had been pointing piped up, “What about me? don’t I have a name?”
“Shithead,” the man in the suit replied. The other young man gave a look of distaste. “Oh com’ on, I’m only jokin’, tryin’ to lighten’ the mood a bit. “Your name is going to be Ian.”
“Good ’nuff for me,” Ian said.
“Good. Now, you two need to come with me. I’ll explain everythin’ I know and getchoo two up to speed.
“Wait a sec,” Edgar said, “we don’t even know your name. What makes you think we’d follow you through the evil looking wormhole thing?”
“First off,” the man in the suit said, pointing at the purple oval, “tha’s notta’ wormhole, it’s a portal. Secon’, you pushed the butt’n, so now you ‘ave to go on the ad’ventures. Besides, it is bloody good fun an’ you get the weekends off. Las’ thing, to answer your question, you can jus’ call me ‘Erald.
“Herald,” Ian asked.
“Thas’ what I said, ‘Erald,” the man in the suit said.
“Where exactly are we going,” Edgar asked.
“Into The Infinite,” Herald said.