The only way to describe Charlie Parker was a nerd. Her bedroom was simply a cozy matress surrounded by book shelves. She had a 109.98% in her language arts class, and her lowest grade on her report card was a 98%, but only because she was sick for two weeks and missed an entire project, start and end, in that time. She had sobbed about it for a whole day.

Another strange or possibly nerdy thing about Charlie was how large her imagination was. She loved acting, her favorite genre of book was fantasy, and whenever she finished her current stash of books she could easily think of a new idea and simply create it herself.

So when she had a strange dream, Charlie didn’t think anything of it.

The dream featured her, with her long brown hair and pale complexion wearing strange clothes. She looked like she was in a movie, with a blue T-Shirt and tucked into long black yoga pants. She had archery gloves on her thin hands and arrows and a bow strapped across her back. She had what looked like a leather tool belt across her waist.

She looked like a Fortnite character.

And she didn’t even play Fortnite.

Charlie 2.0 gazed into… Charlie’s eyes? The camera? How are dreams narrated?

“We need help. Check your mail.”

Six words spoken, and the dream disapeared. An easy enough request, so at about 4:30 in the morning, Charlie did just that. The front door creaked, but her mom was a deep sleeper. Usually.

Tiptoeing down the driveway (mostly for dramatic effect, since nobody would hear her anyway), Charlie opened the mailbox very, very slowly.

There was indeed a letter, and it was indeed addressed to her. She tugged the letter open carefully and read the contents.

_Hello, Chacharilie._

__

_ We request your help. As you know, we’re being attacked by the face of tyranny. We need all forces possible to recover and abolish our tyrannical system. Please call upon your parallel self for guidance._

__

_Hurry, _

_ -TTG_

Well.

That explained a lot and nothing at all.