Damien, Jack, Sander, Max, and Lyn were looking at some sort of star, hovering a distance above the water, its luminescence more radiant than the daylight surrounding them. That is, if stars took the vague shape of a human being. That is, if stars knew to turn their backs to mortals, knowing full well that one look at their immaculate faces would have unpleasant consequences . . .

No one said a word. In a succession of low waves, water crashed against their legs, again and again, the only sound heard amidst the deep quiet.

    Then a voice—the voice of three male voices in unison, a peal of thunder resonating through the heavens—proclaimed:

    IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE END. AND THE DEATH OF THE ANCIENT WAS THE BIRTH OF THE NEW WORLD, AS IS THE MANNER OF ALL WORLDS.

    IN THE BEGINNING, IN THE END, A WORLD DARK AND VOID AND HOLLOW, NOTHINGNESS, NOTHINGNESS, NOTHINGNESS. AS THE OLD WORLD LAY DEAD, ELOHIM—THE KING OF ALL WORLDS, THE LORD OF ELYSIUM—WALKED ABOUT THE VAST OBLIVION. THUS BEGAN THE BIRTH OF THE NEW WORLD.

    BY HIS POWER, THERE CAME FORTH LIGHT. AND THERE WAS LIGHT, AND THERE WAS DARKNESS, AND THERE WAS DAY, AND THERE WAS NIGHT—

    The sun began its sudden descent, and slid down the vivid orange skies, sinking into the sea, disappearing completely in its graceful exit performance. The expanse then turned a deep dark blue, and a million stars sparkled against the pitch-black tapestry. A few beams of white light shot across the vault of heaven. A colossal cloud of stars drifted above, a giant celestial whale swimming across the cosmic sea. Like a time lapse video, only one that wasn't viewed on a screen but from all angles around them, one that enveloped them entirely in its beauty and enchantment.

    "Duuude!" Max exclaimed. His eyes were wide and had fixed themselves on nothing else but the sky. He spun in his place, like an exhilarated child, his line of sight flitting from one direction to the next. He was grinning, and couldn't stop himself from doing so.

    Sander's mouth was open, and a smile crept to his lips. His green eyes glowed with wonder. "The most amazing thing I've ever seen," he said to no one in particular.

Then the sky turned dark blue once again, the stars still glimmering in the shadows, and a fire, glowing a bright yellow, crept up the horizon, a golden sphere waking from its sleep, rising up, up, up, till the endless space around it was a gentle azure. The tide rose, and the sea began to move in low waves, water sloshing against their thighs, soaking their pants and sprinkling heavy drops of seawater onto their shirts and hoodies.

    THEN CAME INTO CREATION TWO EXPANSES TO COVER THE WORLD, the voice went on to say, THE SKIES ABOVE, AND THE SEAS OVER THE SURFACE OF THE WORLD.

    Lyn shut her eyes as she held her breath, noticing a little too late that the water had risen so quickly and by now had gone over her head. She pushed herself up, kicked the water beneath her feet. Her head emerged out of the surface, and she drew in a sharp breath, then spat water out of her mouth, limbs flailing below to keep herself afloat.

    She blinked several times until her vision was no longer a blur. Lyn saw her friends in the water, hair soaked, drops rolling down their skin. The floor beneath their feet moments back had vanished deep under the sea.

    And the calm lasted only a moment. Just enough time for them to realize—or rather assume—what had just happened.

Then the water began to pull them to one side, and, unable to swim against the current in time, they found themselves swept up against a wall of brine, which crashed over them before Jack could manage to finish his swear word. ("Oh—" and the sea drowned the expression out.) And the wave threw them under, and pushed them back, seawater filling their noses and mouths and stinging their eyes.

Yet even that lasted no longer than ten seconds.

    AND OUT OF THE SEAS ROSE DRY LAND, AND OUT OF THE LAND ROSE HILLS AND MOUNTAINS, AND THE PLAINS AND VALLEYS BETWEEN. RIVERS WOUND THEIR PATHS WITHIN THE CRACKS OF THE GROUND, LIKE VEINS AND THE LIFEBLOOD THAT COURSES THROUGH THEM; WATERS FILLED THE DEPTHS OF LAKES. PLANTS SPRUNG FORTH FROM THE DIRT FLOOR, PAINTING THE LAND VERDANT, BLOTCHES OF COLOR, ABUNDANT AND VARYING, SCATTERED ABOUT THE FACE OF THE WORLD.

    Sander was lying flat on his back, eyes closed. The palm of his hand slowly caressed the grass beneath his skin, as he regained consciousness.

    Grass.

    Grass?

    He opened his eyes, and quickly sat up. He remembered the powerful toss of the waves, the force of the current pulling him to the unknown. He was pretty much drowning in the middle of the ocean only a few seconds ago.

    Yet here he was now, sitting up on grass-strewn ground, dry as if he had never been touched by the sea. His friends had woken up as well. (Although Damien still lay flat on the floor, waving his arms and legs up and sideways like an overweight eight-year-old boy making snow angels, whining, "Mister Brighteyes, give us a break." His stomach growled. "And maybe your homemade iced tea and sandwiches, too. I'm hungry.")

    Jack, Sander, Max, and Lyn stood up and looked around. Wherever they were was nowhere close to what anyone would call an ocean. Heck, they doubted they were even near one. They stood in the middle of a meadow, surrounded by huge towering trees and snow-capped mountains in the distance.

    "Where are we?" asked Sander, to no one in particular.

    Damien sat up and glanced around. "I'm thinking New Zealand," he said, and pushed himself off the ground, to his feet. "Went there last December with Mom and my sister. Looks a lot like it."

Sander felt for his glasses, and let out a sigh of relief. Good, they had managed to stay on.

    FROM THE DUST, the voice continued, startling them, ELOHIM FORMED THE CREATURES OF THE LAND, THE SEA, AND THE AIR, AND HE BREATHED LIFE INTO THEM.

    Silence. Everyone stood unmoving.

    "So," Jack whistled out, "what happens next?"

    There was the sudden rhythm of hooves striking the ground relentlessly. A screech resonated in the air, followed by several others in response.

    Damien glanced at his friends, his eyes wide in fear. They exchanged nervous looks, and huddled together in the middle of the meadow.

    Then Max said, "Is he seriously going to do a Jumanji on us?"

    The cacophony of sounds was louder now, more chaotic.

    "Guess so," muttered Lyn.

    "Be still," said Mr. Brighteyes's disembodied voice, "and trust me."

    "Remember, guys," said Sander, "this is just some sort of simulation. I don't think anything's going to hurt—"

    A herd of horses rushed out of the trees, heading straight in their direction. The creatures each had a horn jutting out the middle of their foreheads.

Jack swallowed the lump in his throat. "Bruh, are those—"

"Yep," said Damien. "Unicorns."

    "I'm seeing shiny, pointy horns," said Jack, unable to tear his eyes away from the incoming stampede. "Ain't looking good for us."

    "But we can't outrun them," said Lyn, looking from side to side, searching for a way out. "There's too many of them. They're everywhere."

    "And they're coming in close," said Jack. The herd was now no more than twenty meters away from where they stood.

    "You heard Mister Brighteyes," said Sander, over the incessant noise of hooves pounding against the ground, "we've got to stand still and trust him. That's it, we've got to trust him on this."

    "So we're just going to stand here?" shouted Jack, fear etched in his features.

    In unison, Sander and Max yelled, "Yes!"

    And with that, the herd of unicorns made their approach, and ran past them. Damien, Jack, Sander, Max, and Lyn stood still as they were told, huddled together in the middle of the meadow, unscathed. The unicorns kept their distance, the space around the youths far away enough to not be suffocating, wide enough for them to move around a bit.

Jack smiled and started laughing. "We're alive!" he announced to his friends, tightening his embrace around Damien and Max's shoulders. He laughed again and let out a whoop. "We're alive!"

Sander glanced up, and something in the air—soaring high above the trees, far away yet unmistakably approaching—caught his eye. He smiled. "Hey, guys," he said, "do you see what I'm seeing?"

    They all turned around, in the direction of the mountains and the trees behind them, and there flying toward them was a bird of some sort, large wings flapping, its body a bit too big for the typical bird, four legs—not two, to their surprise—attached to the being, talons clawing at the air, projecting itself forward. And in the distance, another appeared behind it, and another, and another—until an entire flock of them flew across the sky.

    And when they had come close enough, swooping down to give them a closer look, the youths realized they were no birds. Each one had the head of an eagle, the body of a lion, and the wings of a great bird. Gryphons, countless majestic creatures, flew across the heavens, followed after by a myriad of winged horses, then multifarious birds of varying colors and sizes—some as small as the regular sparrow, some the size of eagles, others possibly larger than an SUV.

    Surrounding them were no longer horned horses. Lizards the length of humans crawled across the grass, their intricate blue patterns subtly glowing against their dark skin. Giant flightless birds with long necks, standing around twelve feet tall, ran down the meadow. And just like a divinely orchestrated parade, several other creatures passed them by. Large black cats, dark green hounds the size of small cows, wolf-dog hybrids, small goat-antelopes, ape-like creatures with long claws, huge serpentine hybrids with strange yet familiar faces . . .

    And when the last of the creatures—a little goat-antelope—scampered off into the distance, the sky turned dark, although blotches of yellow sunlight made their way to the ground, never still and ever changing.

    Damien, Jack, Sander, Max, and Lyn turned their sights skyward, staring up at whatever shielded them from the sun. Eyes widened in wonder, jaws dropped as expressions of awe slipped past some of their lips.

    "Bruh . . . ," Jack muttered.

    "Woah," Max exclaimed, softly.

    A legion of dragons soared high above them, some the size of young children, others as huge as aircrafts. Each one flapped their leathery wings in serene flight, their shadows sliding across the vast meadow.

    Damien watched his childhood fantasy play out before his eyes. For years he had thought it would never be possible, that the closest he could ever get to this experience was the 4-D Harry Potter ride in Universal Studios. If he was still the jovial nine- or ten-year-old boy of eons ago, he thought, he'd probably be crying by now.

    Truth be told, however, sixteen-year-old Damien of now was holding back his tears as this went on. (Because men weren't emotionless, really: they've just been taught to conceal any sign of vulnerability.)

The last of the dragons flew past, and the youths found themselves bathed once again in sunlight. The myriad of august creatures glided farther on into the infinite azure expanse, fading to silhouettes in the distance.

Damien, Jack, Sander, Max, and Lyn looked on for a moment. Just as awestruck as they were upon first sight, inadvertent smiles still etched into their features.

There was a wave, sudden and ever blue, and seawater splashed against their still forms. They tore their gazes away from the shadows of the parade, arms flying over their faces to shield themselves from any more aqueous impact.

Jack wiped the brine off his face with his palm. "What was that?"

They found themselves at sea again, this time standing on the deck of some boat.

    Something then broke the ocean surface, a large head with large dumb eyes, and it propelled itself out of the water, exposing its body and scales and fins, gleaming a deep blue sheen in the sunlight. And just as quickly as it spun out of the sea and into the air, it crashed back into the waves, drenching the youths in another shower of brine.

    They stood motionless for a while, wiping seawater out of their eyes. Then—

    "That, Jack," the familiar voice began, "is an Ika Nui. And, yes," he added, "it's perfectly safe to look at my face now."

They turned to face the man standing beside them. Mr. Brighteyes smiled, holding up the same ancient hand lantern with one hand, the flame within still burning a brilliant blue.

"There are many other creatures yet to be revealed under the waves, dwelling deep within depths of the ocean, unwilling to rise above the sea," Mr. Brighteyes went on. "However, I suggest we move on with this narrative. I have one more story to share to you all this afternoon, and it will need further explanation."

    Jack nodded and gave off a weak chuckle. "Cool."

    Mr. Brighteyes walked past the sail, over to the edge of the boat. He stepped out of the hull, and stood easily on the other side, the sea serving as an expansive sapphire floor underfoot, the waves gently lapping against his shoes. He looked back at them, his blue eyes twinkling with excitement.

    "Well, don't just stand there," said Mr. Brighteyes, playfully. "Follow me. Let's get a move on now, shall we?"

    The five of them exchanged glances, although this time without question, more out of habit than a collective wordless discussion amongst themselves. They'd gone through enough pandemonium this afternoon to know better by now.

    And so they filed out of the boat, one by one, stepping up and over the edge of the boat, onto the stretch of deep blue flood . . .

    . . . or so they thought the sea would lie calm beneath their feet.