| Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1 |
Elise Perkins has dropped her rapping iron again. All of her tools can float
except for that one. It keeps sinking to the bottom of the pool, and every
time she dives down to retrieve it, she ends up pushing all of her other
tools away, so she has to swim around to get those back too. She has taken
so many courses here, but has never found a class called Keeping Track of
Your Stuff 101. She did find underwater basket weaving, though. She knows it
started as a joke, but she’s having fun with it, despite the drops.
Her basket is fairly complete at this point, so she uses it as a little
liferaft for her other tools while she very carefully sinks below the
surface herself, and slowly swims down to find the rapping iron. It’s an
awkward shape, so it doesn’t always land right below. The chlorine stings
her eyes as she’s hunting for it. She could have designed a body for herself
that doesn’t feel that kind of inconsequential pain, but she wants to
immerse herself in the culture. She wants to feel what her ancestors felt
when they were doing these kinds of things. She wants to be authentic.
She spots it. Huh. It’s right next to another one. Wait, no. That one isn’t
a rapping iron. What the hell is that thing? No one else is in the pool
right now. Did they really drop something earlier, and it was never picked
up? It’s not like the droids to make such a mistake. She swims towards it,
but before she can catch it, the second metal object latches itself onto her
iron and they both begin floating upwards. She keeps grasping at them, but
they’re moving too fast. She follows them up to the surface, only noticing
then that someone is standing on the pool coping. Are they trying to steal
her tool? Who the hell would do that? It’s not worth anything. They can get
their own!
Elise makes one final push. She takes hold of her rapping iron, as well as
the magnet, and the string it’s attached to. She yanks it away, which causes
the figure to totally faceplant into the water. Serves them right. But now
there’s a problem. What if this stranger is a serial killer? Now she’s in a
very vulnerable position with a person who she has just royally pissed off.
She breaks the surface quickly, and swims the rest of the way to the wall so
she can pull herself up. She hears a bunch of splashing behind her.
The stranger is flailing about, trying to keep their head above water.
They’re panicking, and can clearly not swim. Well, maybe it’s not so clear.
They could be faking.
This is ridiculous. Elise is immortal, and there’s security all over the
place. She doesn’t have to be afraid. So she jumps back in, thankful that
she learned to become a certified lifeguard not two months ago, and rescues
the non-swimmer.
The stranger is still panicking as she scrambles out of the water, and lies
on her back on the deck to catch her breath.
Elise stands there patiently, wringing water out of her hair, and adjusting
her bikini, which magnet girl nearly tore off of her during the struggle.
The woman rolls over to her side, and stands back up. She stares awkwardly
at Elise. “This is not how I wanted this to go. How embarrassing that I
should not know how to swim. I just...didn’t think you would pull me in.”
“I didn’t think you would try to steal from me,” Elise replies.
“That was only my way of introducing myself. I thought it would be funny.”
“Well, it wasn’t. It was just confusing, and honestly, a little scary for
me. I change substrates when I feel like it, but I never let my body die. I
have an aversion to pain.”
“I get it,” the woman says. She takes a deep breath, and holds out her hand.
“Hi. I’m Ciaragie Benetton, but everyone calls me Rage. Don’t worry, it’s
ironic. It might not seem like it, but I’m typically very cool under
pressure.”
“My name is not important,” Elise replies. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I
would like to get back to my basket.” She starts to scan the surface because
now her tools will have scattered all over the place. She sees her basket
first. It is completely mangled and broken. She looks back over at Rage.
“You ruined it. I’ll have to start over.”
“I’m sorry, Elise. I should have said just hello, like a normal person.”
“How do you know my name?” Elise questions.
“I came here to find you,” Rage explains as she’s stripping naked. “I’m
putting together a team to compete under Treasure Hunting Dome. I believe
that there is a secret, hidden level to be played. I believe there is a
prize which no one has ever heard of, let alone attempted to locate. I’ve
been going around, finding the best of the best from people who have
experience in other domes. I myself have spent decades in Escape Dome. But I
also have a navigator, and adrenaline junkie, even an anthro—”
“I’m sorry, what the heck does this have to do with me?” Elise asks. “I’m
not the best of the best at anything. I spend my time learning archaic
skills, like underwater basket weaving, and bricklaying. You must have me
confused with someone else.”
Rage shakes her head. “No, you’re who I’m looking for. I don’t know what you
know about Treasure Hunting Dome, but the challenges often involve exactly
things like those skills. Some are inherent, like digging through a haystack
to find a data-needle which contains your next clue. But for some of them,
completing the challenge is just what tells the Exemplar that you deserve
the clue, so they hand it to you.”
Elise sighs. “It’s not really my thing. As I was saying, I enjoy the quiet.
I don’t wanna go on an adventure. When I’m not here, I’m reading classics in
Branch of Babel, or relaxing on a boat in Raindome. I don’t do fun. I
don’t do challenges.”
“You don’t wanna do anything with what you’ve learned,” Rage presses.
“So you can weave a basket underwater. So what? It’s not like the world
needs more baskets. You don’t even need a basket. You could print one
in minutes.”
Elise points to the water. “That was supposed to be mine. It was
going to be something that I made myself. No, I don’t need a basket,
but I want a basket that’s one hundred percent unique. It wasn’t
programmed, it wasn’t generated. It would be mine. My house is filled with
things that I have created with my own two hands. I made the house
itself...on my own...from scratch. That’s what makes me happy. I do it for
me, and no one else. I don’t expect someone like you to understand that.”
“I understand,” Rage argues. “Oh, I understand better than you think. The
prize for winning an escape room is getting out of the escape room, which
you already were before you voluntarily went in. We collect the same things.
We collect experiences.” She holds her hand out again, but this time not to
shake. “Come with me. Let’s experience something neither of us has before,
which I believe no one in the universe has. You might not be able to
put a physical object in your home, but you’ll never forget it.”
Elise stares at Rage’s hand with a frown. That’s a pretty convincing
argument, she has to admit it, if only to herself. “I’m not promising
anything, but I am willing to listen. Tell me more about this Treasure
Hunting Dome.” She doesn’t take her hand.
Rage smiles as she drops her arm. “Let’s meet the team first.”
No comments :
Post a Comment