1 I BECOME THE SECURITY GUARD’S LATE-NIGHT SNACK

His name was…

Wait. He couldn't remember his name.

He gazed down at the school ID clutched in his hands. The photo was there, but his face... it was a blur, as if the image had been swirled away by water.

Focusing on the name, he could make out an 'S', a smudge where the middle letters should be, and then an 'N'.

"Steven?" he guessed. It sounded like a common enough name.

Let's try this again.

His name was Steven. His goal? Simple: attend school and do well. But right now, he was far from any classroom, sitting alone on damp grass in the middle of... nowhere. 

He was about to get up when a voice broke through the silence. 

"To plant seeds of betrayal, you must first sow desperation," the voice declared.

Were they talking?

"Yeah," the voice said. "What else would we be doing?"

Was Steven a normal kid? Well, kind of.

Except for one small, decidedly weird detail: he was talking to a flower. 

Was he crazy? No, that couldn't be it. The flower was very much interested in talking to him. But all Steven wanted to do was to close his eyes and sleep.

"Don't go to sleep," the flower said. "It took quite an effort to wake you up."

Wake him up from what? 

"I'm not allowed to tell you," The flower flatly told him. 

Wait, why not? 

"Think of it as insurance." 

What? And it was able to read his thoughts?

"Yes, your thoughts are simple." The flower sighed, its purple petals shaking. "Quite easy to read."

Finally, Steven managed to get a question out, "W-what are you? Why can you talk?"

"Silly boy, I'm a flower spirit," the flower said as if that was obvious, "But let's move on. I need you to deliver a message to someone."

"Let's see," The flower looked around in the meadow. "This will help."

At that moment, a dandelion dislodged itself from the grass and stuck onto Steven's hoodie. He plucked it off, examining it in his hand. To his surprise, the dandelion began to grow, quickly reaching the height of a stop sign. 

"I want you to tell them to stop playing around," The purple flower said. "No more games."

A gust of wind lifted the huge dandelion off the ground, and the boy was carried off along with it, his feet dangling in the air. The tiny purple flower on the grass shrunk away into the distance. "Goodbye," it seemed to say. 

Soaring through the sky at breakneck speed, Steven's heart raced. They were too high for him to let go. 

But his hand… 

Oh no. Steven felt his grip loosen, and bam - he was falling. A slow plummet down to the earth from here. 

This was how the story would start and end: A dumb boy had lost his memory, and now, was going to become a sandwich on the ground. 

Closing his eyes, he accepted his fate. One Mississippi… two Mississippi… 

Huh, strange. He didn't feel any pain. His eyes opened to find a fluffy cloud of dandelion seeds below him. The dandelion had caught him in the nick of time.

"Thanks," Steven said.

The dandelion nodded, which caused the boy to shake as well. 

"Please don't nod," He winced, hugging the dandelion's white head tighter. He looked down, finally seeing the city below them.

Steven racked his head to remember. 

Wasn't this… New York city? He looked at the skyscrapers and the lights. From here, he could see Central Park and even Times Square. And was that the Empire State Building?

They were getting close now, he could tell. Gently, the dandelion descended from the sky, and Steven started to climb down.

With a leg still halfway on the stem, he met a pedestrian's eyes. The guy, sipping a cup of coffee, continued to walk down the block. This type of stuff? Normal, at least, in New York. 

The dandelion grew smaller and jumped onto his hoodie again. 

In front of him was this building that looked like a white box, but had four pillars. The small dandelion nuzzled him, and somehow, he knew that he had to go there. 

But first, the stairs.

Looking back, Steven wished he never went up the stairs. But not just because he was breaking and entering into a closed museum. No, getting arrested would have been better.

When he stepped in, the doors had opened and closed for him like magic. Was that a good sign? 

The building was empty. 

Inside the walls was this historic vibe. Old stuff everywhere. Then it clicked - he was in a museum. The American Museum of Natural History, to be exact. 

The dandelion seemed to tug on his hoodie, and the boy began to walk down the halls. He passed by huge dinosaur bones, a huge elephant, and glowing rocks. Just not in that order. 

Finally, he reached a door. It was hidden somewhere, but he couldn't remember the path. 

Steven twisted the door-knob and walked in. 

He glanced around. The place felt a bit disjointed from the rest of the museum, like it wasn't an exhibit at all. He observed the high, sweeping roofs and wooden framework. The room reminded him of an old sect building - with the oak pillars, calligraphy scrolls, and folding screens. It felt like a perfect place for cultivation. 

Cultivation? 

The word just popped up in his mind. But Steven was pretty sure cultivation had something to do with planting. Flowers, right? 

"No, no, let's add more," a voice mumbled. 

At the center of a room, the boy noticed a figure hunched over a wooden desk. They were studying scrolls, each adorned with flowing, intricate characters written in black ink. 

"—Oh, hey!" The figure greeted him.

"How'd you get in here? I wasn't expecting visitors," The figure muttered, their face hidden by wisps of tendrils. "Hey, since you're here, would you mind clicking a button for me?" 

A button?

The figure picked up a piece of paper and folded it into a paper plane. With a gentle flick of the wrist, it glided through the air, slowly re-folding into a crane mid-flight. The origami crane gently descended to the boy, who picked it up.

For a moment, the tiny crane looked at him curiously, before turning into a paper-button. 

"Since I can't read, I don't know what it says, but it must be something good." The figure said cheerily. 

The boy looked down at the button and spotted some fine text, which was barely noticeable at first glance.

It read: [Click here to pay $99.99. This will allow you to skip all content up to the 'First Maintenance'.] 

Maintenance? So like electricians and janitors right? 

Don't click it, the little dandelion seemed to tell him. Yeah, he had to agree. Putting it aside, Steven looked at the mysterious figure again.

"You didn't click it?" Disappointed, the figure continued, "No? Well, worth a try."

"Look, let me let you in on a little secret." The figure beckoned for the boy to step closer. "Because of a little 'mistake', we lost the star of the show. The main character, if you will."

The figure waved his hands, playfully. 

"I know, I know, that sounds bad. But don't worry, we already found a replacement who happens to be…" The figure's cloudy face seemed to glow in anticipation, "you."

The boy stared. This wasn't at all why he was here. Right, the message… what was it? Stop playing games? He tried to explain that a talking flower had brought him here, but-

The figure, seemingly turning a deaf ear, continued talking, "Ah yes, the more microtransactions, the better."

What could he do? Dandelion, any help?

Darn, he seriously couldn't believe that the first thing that popped up in his mind was to ask a flower. Luckily it had an answer. It might've not said any words, but the message was clear to him. So Steven listened.

He picked a scroll off the wall and chucked it at the figure, hitting them on their cloudy head. 

Nailed it.

This time, the figure - who Steven decided to call "Cloudy-head" - looked annoyed.

"The flower sent you, huh," Cloudy-head muttered. "But it knows I cannot stop now. Too many sponsors and backers. Stronger than even the strongest in our pantheon." 

The figure took a scroll off the desk, opened and held it up. "Do you know who this is?"

Steven looked. It was this middle aged man with a goatee, and a droopy mustache. He was wearing these eastern looking robes, much like Cloudy-head in front of him.

Steven shook his head no.

"This is Yu Huang. He goes by many names. You may know him as the Jade Emperor."

Jade emperor? It sounded like some jewelry pawn shop.

"That's blasphemy," said Cloudy-head, as if reading Steven's thoughts, "but it's fine. He's old anyway."

"Did you know," The figure continued, "That before his rule, there were two heavenly officials before him who held the same position? He is only the latest."

"And he can be succeeded." The figure stopped, pausing. "Or overthrown." 

But how did this apply to his life?

"Bah, we're all pawns of someone's game." Cloudy-head said, "Of course this applies. After all, you don't even have your memory. Just think about what that means…" 

Steven stepped back. His head was starting to hurt. 

"I suppose I do have to make things interesting. Let's see… the monk's blessing will do the trick." The man shook his hand, as if shoo-ing the boy away, "Alright, off you go. I'll keep the flower's message in mind. Happy?" 

A gust of wind blew from the room, and the boy rolled out of the room like tumbleweed. The doors shut behind him. 

Rude, much?

He blinked. The museum halls were still empty. He continued to walk with the dandelion on his hoodie, when he was met… face to face with a creepy man.

Nope, just a clay statue. The museum really kept these statues here that looked so realistic, at least in the dark. Maybe it was just his nerves though.

He continued to walk forward when a flashlight suddenly shined across his face.

"What are you doing here, kid?" The man asked. He was wearing this official-looking security uniform.

Steven tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled, "ugh…" 

Dang. 

"I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me." 

Oh great, this was the part where he would be sent to juvie for trespassing into a museum after hours. He reluctantly began to follow the man. On his hoodie, the dandelion seemed to shake. A warning? For what?

As they walked, the guard began to ramble. "Where's your parents?" 

"Parents?" Steven said, "I'm not sure I have any…" 

"No parents, huh? You didn't burst out of a rock like little Sun did, did you?" The security guard laughed. "You know, back when he was just a little precious lad, I remember the kiddo bursting into places and stealing stuff. Oh, how times have changed."

"Your little son?"

"No, he's not my son. Sun… that's his name."

Steven had no idea who the security guard was referring to. A boy named Sun?

"Ah, I suppose maybe you haven't heard of him. Sun was born thousands of years ago, and Americans tend not to keep up with that stuff."

Wait, what?

Steven stopped. "Thousands of years ago?"

The guard chuckled again, but this time the laugh sounded off, less human somehow. "Oh, of course thousands of years ago."

The pieces started to click together in Steven's head. Not human. Way too old. This was not your average security guard.

Well, it was a good time to slowly back away… 

Suddenly, the guard's head turned around completely, his neck twisting like an owl. "Well, since you're here and all, I might as well have you as my late-night snack. No hard feelings, right?"

Yeah, no.