Showing posts with label training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label training. Show all posts

Friday, July 17, 2026

Microstory 2715: Leaning Forward and Ready to Leave

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It’s over. Well, the first part of Isavet’s plan is anyway. She has learned what she needed to, and she had a plausible reason to learn it. She was born under the Nordome Network, or whatever it is. It was her home. She was just following what the gamemakers set up for her. Had she left, started a life on the outside, and then tried to commit to this training, it would have looked suspicious. Or rather, it could have. She doesn’t actually know that, because she doesn’t know what life is like away from the Nordic nations. She is going to leave soon, but she has to find her family first.
Caleb takes her back, but she doesn’t let him follow her this time. Helping with her revenge efforts was noble and very nice of him. She appreciated it. But she is in no physical danger here. It is deeply personal. He respects her decision to end the simulation here. He gave her his contact information, so they can reconnect on the outside. He and his men are going to go back down south, and continue on with their ancient Norse ways. He doesn’t know when he’s going to leave, but it probably won’t be too long. You’re evidently supposed to stay for a lifetime, but you don’t have to, and it kind of feels like he’s grown bored of it. And he probably wants to connect with Isavet, though in other ways, and he can’t do that unless he’s on the outside too.
“Father,” Isavet says. She has finally found them. She has found Ronan at last. She doesn’t see anyone else here. “Where are mother, Vith, and Leif?”
“They’ve gone, my child,” her father says. He takes her into a big hug. “This is no place for a boy like Leif. I am here to invite you to come with us. Now, I’m sure you’re nervous, and you have every right to see this world as—”
“I want to leave,” she interrupts. “I completed my work, and I want to see what else is out there. I may be okay with the violence here, in a way that Leif never was, but it’s still not real. It was only catharsis. I needed to see it through, because that is how you raised me. But now I’m ready to see how you live. Take me out of here, father.”
He smiles proudly. “Okay,” Ronan says. “Let us head for the nearest exit.”
Isavet nods, and follows him as he walks off, not bothering to break down camp. “How did you know that I was back? Can you watch me on your cameras?”
“No, I’ve been here. That is why I told you where we would be.”
“What?” Isavet questions. He shouldn’t have stayed here, all this time. He had no idea how long she was going to take. It could have been years. That might not mean much to immortals like him, but she would have felt really, really bad about it, instead of just really bad. “I can’t believe you did that. Do you not miss your son?”
“I do, but you’re important to me too. What you said, needing to see this through? I respect that immensely. I do not have access to security cameras. I had to stay.”
Isavet frowns. Her guilt will remain at least another several months, she’s sure.
Ronan stops and bends down over a patch of grass. “I wish to officially declare my intention to leave the simulation. Please raise the lift for egress.” The ground parts for him. A block of it ascends from the ground. A door opens leading to a small room. “It’s okay, Isavet. This will take us to our new home. Our family awaits.”
She trusts him. Isavet steps in first, followed by Ronan. The doors close on their own. The chirpings of a bird she is not familiar with soothe her as the walls and floor shake. She’s not scared, though. This is what is meant to happen. After a few minutes, this lift object stops. The doors reopen. The first thing she sees is a computer.

Wednesday, July 15, 2026

Microstory 2713: The Laws That Govern

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Isavet’s training doesn’t ever have to be over, but it can be today. She has been with this warband for the last six months, and has learned a lot. She has turned out to be wrong about Caleb. He knows his way around a sword and a spear. All the guys do. They might be mercenaries, but they are honorable men. Her plan to prove herself on day one worked. They accepted her, and treated her like one of their own just about immediately. Of course, she had to continue to be worthy of their regard, but she never felt like her bust had anything to do with it.
The men have not been too forward with her either. It was a few months before she realized that it’s because Caleb, as their leader, essentially has inherent claim to her as his woman. One thing she understands about the world that lies beyond is that there is no such thing as owning another person, in any sense. So he has not tried to exercise any control over her, except in his capacity as her leader. He has not technically relinquished this claim, however, hopefully so no one else tries to take it, and not because he is planning something for the future.
Isavet stands at a crossroads now. Two choices lie before her. Will she begin to go on campaigns with the men, or is she satisfied with her training? If she stays with them for two more years, they will help her get revenge. If she cuts out now, she will have to do it on her own, but now that she has the skills, that might be okay. That doesn’t mean she’s confident yet. She is still thinking.
“Do you want to know what I think,” Caleb asks, “or should I just shut up?”
“I am open to your opinion,” Isavet begins, “as long as it is a good one.”
Caleb sighs. “You were born to this world, and in this world, death is permanent. That is a gray area for Castlebourne. Certain domes are off-limits to people like you, because of how dangerous they are. Being born in here is not something that the laws accounted for, but if you will indulge me, I would like to show you this.” He removes something from his bag. It looks like paper, but it’s glowing.
Isavet recognizes it. That is the magical technology which her mother showed her when they were trying to explain that this was all only a simulation. “I don’t want to mess with that. I will see plenty when I’m ready to leave, which will be on my terms.”
“I respect that, so I’ll just tell you. The law was changed because of Talus. I don’t think they are going to force you to leave, but someone may show up here to strongly encourage it. You would be well within your rights to return if you opt for virtual imm—”
“Don’t say that word,” Isavet warns. “That means something to my people. It is not something that you can simply request from one of your friends, or however it is you do it. I like myself the way I am. I’m not changing. When I go out there and fight the men who burned down my home, I will do it knowing that it could be the last thing I do on Earth. I’m okay with that, and you’re going to have to be okay with it too.”
“But that’s just it,” Caleb says. “You’re not on Earth.”
“I know. It doesn’t matter. I have made my choice. Your king can send as many people as he wants, I’m not leaving my world until the job is done,” Isavet explains.
“Okay. So what are you going to do? I won’t make it easy on you, and except you from our traditions. Will you stay and fight for our causes, or will you go off alone?”
“I believe that you have shown me the light,” Isavet says. “Now that I know others may be after me, all I can do is stay alone. Goodbye, Caleb. Thank you for teaching me.”

Tuesday, July 14, 2026

Microstory 2712: First Things First

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Isavet doesn’t know how many people from other worlds have come to this one to pretend to be real Norsemen, as she is. Either her parents don’t know, or chose not to tell her. She remembers asking questions when she was younger, but then real life took over, and it didn’t seem relevant anymore. She did sometimes listen to the two of them when they would have their private conversations about it. She was a terribly curious little girl. Now that she’s older, she has decided, however, that only one thing out there interests her, and she is not yet ready for it. This is her home, and she will fight for it, even if it doesn’t matter to everyone. Like this guy, Caleb. What kind of name is Caleb?
“I don’t know what kind of name it is,” Caleb answers. “It’s my real name.”
“Maybe we could go somewhere a little more private to talk?” Isavet suggests.
Caleb looks over at his mercenaries. “Nah, that won’t be necessary. I’m the only visitor here, and when you talk about things they don’t understand, they’re programmed to just ignore it. They’ll say something like, I wouldn’t know anything about that, and just move on from there. Have you not interacted very much with the NPCs?”
Isavet flinches. She’s heard that term before. She doesn’t know what it stands for, but it doesn’t sound very nice. She also doesn’t want to get into this. “Look, I was born here. I don’t care where you’re from, or what lies beyond the walls. This is where I belong. Now I’m looking for someone to train me. I didn’t know I would run into someone like you. If I have to move on, I will. Just tell me before I waste my time.”
“No, it’s okay,” Caleb says. “You looked like you were immersive, but I didn’t know that you were full native. Let’s have some lunch and talk about what you need.”
He respects her wishes, and doesn’t push it. She must admit, she is glad that he’s just a normal person. He’s not following any sort of programming, as her father would call it. She doesn’t have to prove herself further. He’s just going to help. Caleb didn’t come in here with meaningful knowledge of Isavet’s culture, or any sort of training. It sounds like he woke up one day and simply decided to give it a try. He has been here for the last seven years. That is what she never understood about her parents, who have been here even longer. What kind of life must they be leading where they can simply take a break for decades to lead an entirely different life? No, she doesn’t care about that. One day, she will venture through the gates and complete her final mission, but she will have to wait. She will have to protect the family she has here first.
Caleb gives her some options for who might be able to teach her how to fight better than what she learned from watching her father and Vith. This is where one of those so-called NPCs comes in handy, because none of her family members grew up like this, so their training honestly can’t be trusted. If one of these men has simply been magically given the skills that she needs, then they might be the best tools for her to receive them herself, since she can’t experience the same magic.
As it turns out, Hamarr, who all but attacked her when she arrived, is one of the candidates from which she can choose. She selects him for the irony, and because she takes the blood bond they formed seriously. They don’t waste any time. They get right into it after lunch. They start...with chores. She’s annoyed at it, but very experienced, and she’s going to respect their ways. Hamarr says that with his wound, he cannot chop wood, so she has to do it for him. Caleb doesn’t contradict the claim. So she agrees, but she will only do this to a point. If she finds out they are only using her, they will regret it.

Monday, July 13, 2026

Microstory 2711: Dropping the Hammer

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Isavet strides right through the mercenary camp. Little by little, the men notice her and stop what they’re doing. They’re mostly cleaning their spears, polishing their spears, and sharpening their spears. They’re doing a lot with their spears. Isavet asked her father for a sword, but he promised that his friend in the city would forge her a better one, and that she wouldn’t need it until she got there. That is one thing she is missing out on. But it’s in the wrong direction, and she doesn’t want to waste precious time on formal lessons. She wants to get into it. She has already fought before when she had to defend her home. She understands the mechanics; she just needs more practice.
As Isavet is walking through, she’s looking for a target. She isn’t going to go after the biggest guy here. She may be a fighter at heart, but she’s wise enough to know her limits. She doesn’t want the lankiest, least muscular guy either, though. She wants someone right in the middle; preferably one who thinks he’s the cock of the day. Maybe it’s him? No, he looks like he may be soft, like Isavet’s brother. There’s definitely something different about him. They are all leering at her with lust, but he looks like he wants to court her first. Which is obviously not what she needs right now. Moving along.
There he is. There’s her man. He’s stepping out from his tent area, arms folded. He is leaving plenty of room for her to pass, but he will close any gap she tries to walk through. She can tell that he’s at the ready. So she plays into it. She pretends to try to walk by so he can reach out to stop her. She was going to insult his status, and demand to speak with the leader, but his hand lands right upon her breast. Now she has to take him down without warning. She twists his wandering thumb, and then his wrist, and once he’s good and in pain, she pushes him the rest of the way down to his back. He’s big enough where she cannot remain standing, so she literally rolls with it, right over him, so she can let go and stand back up on his other side. No one moves to stop her.
As she is trying to pivot to hit him while he’s down, he grasps her ankle. She doesn’t like that, so she pulls out her knife and slashes him on the inside of his elbow. That makes him let go. She slams the handle against his eye socket, and slashes his cheek, but very shallowly. It shouldn’t leave a scar if he’s careful with it. “Try anything, and I’ll go deeper next time.” She moves her blade over to his manhood. “Or maybe I’ll just make a clean cut. How does that sound?”
The man shakes his head as he’s holding pressure against his injuries.
“Does anyone volunteer to fight for this man’s honor!” she cries. The crowd still doesn’t move. Isavet places the tip of her dagger against the palm of her hand. She digs in and twists back and forth a few times. Once her blood has pooled, she reaches down, and squeezes it around the wound on her victim’s arm. “Now we are bonded for life.” She pulls as hard as she can to help him back up to his feet. “What is your name?”
“Hamarr,” he answers, “son of Stein.”
“I don’t want to join your clan, Hamarr, but I do want someone to teach me. I took you down with hardly any experience at all. Imagine what I could do with a little training. While I’m with you, I will fight by your side, but when I’m ready to go, I go.”
“That is not my decision.” Hamarr points to the man who looked at her funny.
The apparent leader walks up with what Isavet’s mother once called swagger. He holds his hand out towards her. “Welcome to my camp. My name is Caleb. I’m from a planet called Thālith al Naʽāmāt Bida. Ever heard of it?”

Friday, July 10, 2026

Microstory 2710: She Will Learn

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Isavet has left her home. She lived there for over half her life, but it was constantly under attack, and it never felt safe. It has had consequences for her mind and soul. She is angry, and she knows this about herself. In this world, might makes right. If you own something, and you can keep it away from anyone else, it belongs to you rightly. Everyone else feels the same way, and likes to test those principles. Instead of making a life for themselves, they take from others. Isavet isn’t angry at the world for working that way. She knows that she could even leave if she wants to. But that doesn’t mean she’s going to let it go. Okay, so they were more mighty today. But what about tomorrow? She has gone away from her family in the pursuit of revenge for the clan that burned her home down. She told her father that she would return to them some day, but she could not have genuinely promised that. In all likelihood, she is marching towards her death. She is fully prepared for that, but she’s gonna take those men down with her.
In this culture, women typically do not fight. They do not go a-viking. But it is not entirely prohibited. If Isavet proves her mettle, others will accept her. She will have to train five times as hard, and she will always be looked down upon, but she is not going to let that stop her. In fact, she is going to use her status, and their perception of her, to her advantage. Everyone will probably underestimate her, and that is totally fine with her, because once their blood meets her blade, it will taste just as sweet upon her tongue. She knows that none of them is actually a real person. She doesn’t wholly understand it, but she doesn’t need to. These are the circumstances under which she was born. She will fight as they fight against her. That is their way.
Her father, Ronan wanted her to go to the city, find a particular blacksmith, and ask him to train her. He says that she can trust no one else, but he is not right about that. The truth is that she can trust no one at all. She can’t trust the stranger, or even her family, because they wouldn’t understand. They let her go. They gave her their blessings, but they would never do something like this. That is the lesson that she is trying to teach herself as she walks down the road. Her mother and father gave her everything she needed up until this point. But now she needs to figure out her own future. She can’t do that around them. She can’t do it around him. He was a great father to her, and she loves him dearly, but he’s too soft. He still sees this as nothing more than a game. It’s not his fault. He’s only spent a fraction of his life here. Isavet has known nothing else. It is all very real to her. One day, she will leave this so-called dome, but that day is not today.
She walked in the general direction of the town, but once she was sure that no one was following her, Isavet veered off. It would be just like her older brother, Vith, to track her in an attempt to protect her, be it at their parents’ direction, or on his own. She has grown accustomed to knowing when he’s around, however, so she is confident that they respected her wishes to do this alone. She is going to miss her little brother, Leif, most of all. She feels like a second mother to him. He needed it, on these dangerous lands. He doesn’t need her anymore, though. He’s growing up, and they’re headed for a safer region of Danmörk. He was not built for this kind of life. That is exactly why she is risking everything. She wants to make it safer, should they choose to stay, which they probably won’t. She thinks she is where she needs to be now. There’s an encampment of mercenaries up ahead. They won’t be very nice, but she will make them help her. She just needs to hurt one of them first.

Monday, June 1, 2026

Microstory 2681: Final Exam

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Brooke will not tell Resi Brooks anything about the rescue that she and her friends pulled off centuries ago. She doesn’t even admit that she’s a time traveler. She says that she can help Resi get a handle on his visions, and that is what she does. They work together for weeks. She doesn’t give him a cure for what ails him, but she provides him with treatments that are better than what Yana has to offer on its own. It’s actually better that he not be too active in the world while he’s working on his mental ability. There are too many distractions, and he has to focus. She first teaches him how to meditate. That’s really all the Kidjum elixir does. It drops a person into a relaxed, unconscious state so it can access deeper truths about the dreamer’s psyche. The drug is an easy shortcut, and its side effects might actually be detrimental to the process.
Brooke asks Resi to start with small things. He’s meant to predict things that will probably happen anyway, like the outside temperature that the forecast already predicted, and always predicts with accuracy. This will reinforce his knowledge of the world, and reward his brain for saying something correct. Over time, she asks for more and more uncertain predictions, like the daily harvest yield in the south fields, or the results of an ancient singing competition show which Resi had never seen before. He gets them right too, but it’s still not too surprising, because yields are fairly steady, and we all knew Miki was gonna win season eleven. So far, though, Brooke has only asked him questions about specific things. She has driven him towards a prediction. The hardest part will be when she simply tells him to come up with something new.
He doesn’t think he’s ready for that yet. He’s still not entirely sure that he really has this ability. But she convinces him to try because if the first time he proves it is when the Central Mountain volcano explodes, then they’re all going to have a bad time. He has to start with something that’s still small, but impossible for him to have known just by recognizing past patterns, or relying on other systems. It has to be so isolated and bizarre that it can’t be true until it is. She sits him down, and has him close his eyes. She tells him to focus on the future, and forget everything he knows about everything else. The past does not exist, and it never will. The only thing that matters is what is to come. He’s also supposed to breathe. In, out. In, out. Her voice fades away as she continues the usual instructions. He keeps following them, trying to see something which does not exist, but is inevitable. He sees a tunnel, but it’s not real. It’s only a conduit to a higher plane of reality. It’s his way to seeing the future. He propels himself forwards, becoming one with the tunnel, and preparing himself for the other side, when an image he has never seen before finally comes to light.
He reaches the end. It’s small, and it looks like it’s moving fast, but to him, it’s in slow motion. It’s kind of grayish, or maybe even gold? It’s hard to tell with the light from the visionscape itself. He tries to look at it from a different angle, but a second image slips into view behind it. This one is also metal, but of a more complex design. It’s still covered in shadow, and hard to make out. So he moves closer. Closer, closer, closer. It’s...it’s a gun. Resi wakes up from the vision, and dives to the side just as he hears the shot. He feels the rush of wind as the bullet passes him within centimeters at most. “What the hell was that?” he asks, trying to put his heart back in his chest.
Brooke puts the gun into her jacket. “That was the final exam. In case you didn’t notice, you passed.”

Wednesday, May 6, 2026

Microstory 2663: The Duty Republic

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Resi’s new responsibilities will begin tomorrow, though he will need time to prepare, so the work actually starts right away. An average of 31 kids turn 16 every day, so the next batch has already begun their cleansing ritual. He remembers his own cleansing like it was yesterday, because it was! Now they’re putting him in charge of the whole thing. Kokore apprentices train for years before they even perform one ceremony without supervision. And it’s not like watching them work on stage would prepare someone to fill in. There’s all sorts of other things going on behind the scenes that Resi doesn’t even know about. He doesn’t even know what he doesn’t know. He just assumes that there’s more to it. For him, it’s even worse. They want him for a job that hasn’t been done in two hundred years, with no education, experience, or aptitude, and no manual. This has to be some kind of test. Is this a test?
“It’s not a test,” his mother claims.
“So you’ve heard of the fifth House?” Resi presses.
“Just stories, but yes. Before you ask, I couldn’t tell you. It’s one of many things that children are not to know until their sixteenth birthdays. I didn’t think it would ever come up. No one did. I certainly didn’t think my son would be chosen.”
Chosen?” he echoes. “Chosen. No one is meant to be chosen for a House. It’s a subconscious decision. That’s the entire point of the Kidjum. If I was chosen, then who chose me? Who is responsible? What else do they choose? Is our whole culture a lie?”
“It’s not a lie, brother,” Omir insists. “It’s just changing. You’re the one who’s changing it. Your decision was still subconscious, but it was nearly unique. You were born to a world different than our ancestors. You see things differently. The island is ready for House Kutelin, and you tapped into that. It’s still all you, but what sets you apart is that you have a deeper understanding of the way things need to be now.”
Resi has never felt any different than the other kids. Mediocre is a word that always swims around in his head. And he’s liked that—it doesn’t sound like an insult to him. He appreciates being part of the collective. He wants to stay that way. He wants to blend in. This is far too much pressure, and he hasn’t even started whatever he’s expected to start. He doesn’t even seem to have any sort of trainer or mentor. No guidance, no real answers. His family doesn’t know anything. They’re just guessing. He looks down at his little sister. She’s a quiet one, and if he can be honest with himself for a minute, his favorite. It’s hard to tell how much of this she’s understanding, because she never lets on. When you look into her eyes, you will see nothing but wisdom and patience. He kneels down. “You’re the only one I can trust now.”
She smiles and wraps her tiny arms around his neck. “I’ll come with you.”
“Oh, honey. You can’t go with him. It’s not time for you to choose—be chosen,” she corrects, “for a House yet. Seven years more.” Mother always talks down to Kala.
“It’s not about House Kutelin.” Resi takes Kala’s hand as he’s standing up straight. “They’re moving me closer to the Tadungeria. She can stay with me there.”
‘“You can’t take care of a child,” his mother argues. “Not only are you not qualified, but you won’t have the time. You have a duty to the whole island now.”
“Let’s not oversell it,” Resi counters. “I have a duty to the Four Houses.” Many refuse to acknowledge that there are two other nations on Yana, which have their own beliefs and practices. Today, they live in peace, and there is plenty of cross-pollination, but there has been much conflict in the past. The animosity can largely be attributed to a failure to recognize each other’s presence. Or really, it’s more about mentally attempting to absorb them into a single unified people. Resi knows that that’s not helpful. Pretending the divisions don’t exist doesn’t dismantle the divisions, it reinforces them.
“You also have a duty to this family,” Omir pushes back. “We need Kala here to complete our chores. You will have access to resources now. The city is well-established. You no longer need her, nor any of us.”
“Which is it, brother?” Resi questions. “Do I have a duty to our family, or am I no longer a part of this family?”
“It’s both,” his mother says. “This tradition is not changing. Even if you had chosen a different House for yourself, we would stay in contact.” Yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to work, but it doesn’t make that much sense when you break it down. If your subconscious wants to join a different House than the one you grew up in, your ties to your first House are probably not that strong to begin with. If Omir had switched to, say, House Naino, Resi would not see him very often. He doesn’t even live here anymore. He should probably be at his new home right now, doing his own early morning chores.”
“I’m starting something new,” Resi begins. “It’s scary, and I don’t want to be alone. I wasn’t condescending to Kala when I said that she was the only one I could trust. She is too young to have kept anything from me.” He holds his free hand up when his mom opens her mouth to argue. “Now, I’m not mad that you did. I understand why. But I can’t do this if I’m relying on my family. If you can’t help me do what I need to do, then I need to commit to my new House. But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving everything behind. I’m taking Kala, because I need her, and I don’t want to hear another word.”
Omir and their mother look over at Father. He’s a quiet one too, but not in Kala’s way. His silence shrouds an anger, and a darkness. He would never hurt them, Resi doesn’t think. He hasn’t before anyway. What’s frightening about it is how much he seems to be holding back. He doesn’t know why Father should be so mad, and why he has to work hard to tamp it down and remain calm. Resi thought he was doing something wrong when he was a kid, but grew up to decide that it doesn’t have anything to do with him specifically. There’s something bigger that bothers Father, which he can’t or won’t say. But as reserved as he is, Father always has an opinion, and they all respect it. “Son, it is not for you to know why your mind chose the House that it did. It is not for any of us to know, for ourselves, or for you. The fact is that starting a new House is no small venture. For my part, I do not care what you do with your power. You could tear down the Houses. You could wage war against the rest of Bungula. All is up to you, and we’ll love you for it, and stand by your side. But what you won’t do is deprive us of the labor and loyalty that we deserve. We had all four of our children for a purpose. You may take Kala with you, but in return, you will provide us with two new daughters as replacement, and you will do so with your first decree after tomorrow’s Kidjum.”
If anyone on this island can make Resi do something he doesn’t want to do, it’s Father. What he’s asking for—to Resi’s knowledge—has never been done before. You don’t ask for new family members to host. When someone chooses a House, they go where they’re needed, and no one is entitled to more than two children, adopted or otherwise. Yet everything is changing now. That’s what they’re fighting about today. He didn’t ask for this responsibility. “Very well, you will have your new daughters.”

Monday, April 20, 2026

Microstory 2651: Wildly Successful and Alive

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Reagan jumps out of his seat. He doesn’t press himself against the wall, but he looks incredibly scared of Mandica, and is not relaxing. He starts clutching his chest, and for good reason. With Mandica’s heightened senses, she can hear how hard his heart is beating. “How are you alive? How are you here?”
Mandica hops off the table, and strides over to the mirror to check her back. The stone is still embedded in her skin, exactly where it was before. It’s glowing again, just as it was in the mortuary. Why is he so confused? It worked again, that makes sense. “Was your memory erased?” she asks him. “I don’t understand why you’re surprised.”
“You were a pancake,” Reagan retorts. “There was—oh my God, it was horrific. You were completely unrecognizable. I...I don’t want to describe the carnage in greater detail, but there was nothing left besides the stone. It was perfectly unharmed, but that’s it. After they removed the train, I swiped the stone, because I didn’t want it falling into the wrong hands, but I didn’t think it would bring you back from that. You...Jesus, Mandica. I’ve not been able to sleep for the last two nights. I felt responsible. I encouraged you to become the Ravensgate Rescuer. I helped train you. I...I...”
“I’m sorry for that. I guess we didn’t know the extent of the stone’s power.”
“I was in love with you!” he cries. “Well, I still am, but I started to mourn, and now I’m profoundly confused. I should be relieved, but it feels unreal.”
Mandica nods. “It’s a shock, I get it.” She looks down at her naked body. No injuries, no scars. No blemishes either. Everything looks brand new. It is new. If her body was pancaked under that train, then the stone would have had to rebuild her from scratch, which is probably why it took two or three days for her to come back this time. “We’ll get through it, though. This is a gift. I think I might not be able to die at all. I mean if a 300-ton train couldn’t do it, what could? I’m like you now, and our friends. You don’t worry about them dying, do you? Your anxiety will go away.”
“Their minds are backed up. That I understand,” he reasons.
“This is even better. I seem to walk around with my backup. As long as the stone survives, I will too.” She places a hand on his shoulder, feeling him twitch at her touch.
“We don’t know that the stone is invincible. Maybe blunt force isn’t a problem, but it has some ridiculous weakness, like battery acid, or...chocolate.”
She smiles as she pivots his body so they’re facing each other. “What kind of life would I be living if I couldn’t have chocolate?”
“Stop joking. We can’t get too excited. It might turn you into a zombie, or—”
You stop,” she insists. “You’re spiraling. These worst case scenarios are not helpful. I’m not gonna go looking for death, but I’m not gonna hide away either. I’m done with that. I put on this suit without us even knowing that the stone wasn’t a one-time thing. Now that we know it’s not, I’m emboldened. I was hesitant out there with Velvet Thunder. It’s what got me killed. I’m not saying it won’t happen again, but this experience has given me a huge boost in confidence.” When he looks away again in sadness, she gently pulls at his chin. “I want you there with me. If Blue Umbra doesn’t come back, I would like us to be partners. I can’t promise you anything beyond that,” she adds awkwardly, “but I think we make a great team.”
He sighs. “We don’t know that yet. All I know is how I feel. I’ve met a lot of superheroes, but none like you. You walked right in here without protection. You are the bravest person I know; probably the bravest in the galaxy. But yes, I would rather have a working relationship with you than nothing at all.”
“And would it be okay if Cardinal Sin is with us as a trio? She expressed interest.”
He smiles now, starting to relax. “She doesn’t go by that anymore. She realized that it didn’t make any sense to maintain her original name if she switched sides. She’s Cardinal Virtue now. People are really starting to accept her. She reacted quite strongly to your death, and people saw that. Even though Velvet Thunder didn’t technically drop the train on you, they’re blaming him for it. He never wanted to be that hated. He may exit the game because of this. You should go see him.”
“I think I will. I don’t want him to feel any guilt.”
She doesn’t end up doing that. Instead, Reagan invites everyone to a meeting, reportedly to discuss funeral arrangements. It was Mandica’s idea to lie. He reaches out to Malika, who has to return from Castlebourne’s north pole first. Elysia left the simulation too, but was closer by. She will not say where. It sounds very hush-hush. Once everyone has arrived, Mandica makes her grand entrance. They’re all upset and all overjoyed at the same time.
No one else confesses their undying love to her, but Elysia does give her a certain look. After the hubbub dies down a little, she pulls Mandica aside for a more private conversation. “Listen. After you died a few days ago, I threw myself into work. After I died, the executive administrative authority offered me a sort of...job. I was holding off on making any radical commitments because I was training you, but I thought that was over. I didn’t want to think about what happened, so I tried to put Ravensgate in my rearview mirror.” Wow, a lot managed to happen in the last few days. “Since you were dead, it didn’t seem to matter, but now that you’re back, you should know...they know about you. They saw what happened at the jewelry store, and the train yard. They’ve been watching you. I didn’t get the impression that they were all that upset about it. I mean, they had weeks to pull you out, and didn’t. Still, you have a right to know.”
“I suppose we should not have been too optimistic about that. They got cameras all over the place. They were bound to notice. Thank you for telling me, I’m sure it will end up okay.” She means it. “Can you tell me about the project? Will you be going back?”
Elysia nods. “Ravensgate has been wildly successful in their eyes. They only built one city under one dome so as not to waste resources on an unproven concept. After decades of play and hype, it’s become one of the more popular destinations for visitors. They have had to start a waiting list because there is too much demand. You don’t want too many superheroes in one city, so they’re building a new one, under a new dome.”
“Oh, cool. That’s impressive. Congratulations,” Mandica says to her.
“Thanks. It’s not yet announced, but since my version of the Rescuer is dead, they might have me become a new character, after I’m done helping design it.”
“That’s really great, Lys, I’m happy for you.” She notices Malika eyeing the exit door. “I wanna hear more about it, but I need one moment before Malika escapes.” She jogs over to her other friend. “Hey. Are you going back to Aquilonian Deep?”
“Yeah. I’ve just been going through my own stuff. It’s not about you.”
“I can appreciate that, and I don’t wanna pressure you, but if you’re gonna be out there, maybe you could take a detour? I can’t leave the dome even though it might not matter anymore. Could you pick something up from someone who owes me a favor?”

Thursday, April 16, 2026

Microstory 2649: Fake, Staged, and Phony

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Mandica is looking at herself in the mirror. The costume fits—that’s not even a question—Elysia’s tailor knew what they were doing. She’s not sure if it’s her. It feels like something is missing. Maybe it’s just that she feels like a fraud in it.
“Turn around,” Reagan suggests. “Look over your shoulder.”
Mandica turns. “Oh. You can see the stone.” That might be her problem with it.
“Is that bad?” he asks.
“I think so. I don’t think I want to advertise it. I can’t explain it, and wouldn’t be comfortable trying even if I did understand it.”
“Sorry,” Elysia apologizes. “It’s partially backless for style. I obviously didn’t have a magical stone lodged in my back.”
“No, it’s not your fault. I like the outfit. I like backless. I just don’t think it’s right for this situation, assuming I go through with my first field test today.”
Reagan chuckles. “If you’re a raven, maybe you should have wings. Those would cover up the stone.” He looks over at Elysia. “I always thought you should have wings.” He looks at Jaidia. “You too, since you’re both birds.”
“They would have only gotten in the way,” Jaidia explains. “It’s not like they would have allowed us to fly. They would not have been powerful enough.”
“Ha, yeah,” Mandica agrees. Then she realizes that this is not entirely true. She has seen a human fly with wings before. They weren’t even all that big. Why aren’t there flying superheroes in this world already? It has to be possible. Mythodome is bound to the same laws of physics. They don’t have any sort of advantage. In fact, if anything, they’re at a disadvantage, because most of the technology there is archaic.
“What are you thinking about?” Reagan asks, noticing her glassy eyes.
“Oh, nothing. Nothing,” Mandica replies. Daedalus does apparently owe her a favor. But no, that’s crazy. She can’t wear functional wings. And besides, she can’t leave Underbelly anymore, so there’s not even any way to reach out to him. She has come to accept her new boundaries. Ravensgate is her home now. It had to be somewhere, and she’s grown quite fond of her friends. She has been missing Malika, however, who has opted not to return to this simulation. She’s evidently relaxing on some island in Aquilonian Deep. Mandica doesn’t know how relaxing it could be, though. Polar Tropica is the nice vacation ocean. The north pole ocean, on the other hand, is cold and rough.
Elysia returns holding something black. Is it...a bib? It looks like a bib. “So. Cleavage is common in comic book stories. I didn’t design my costume by accident. I like feeling sexy. But I have also needed to cover up more in certain situations, namely when I participate in speaking engagements at grade schools.” She shakes the bib. “This is an accessory that I have used for that. It goes under the straps, and clips onto the collar.”
“You think I should cover up my boobs all the time?” Mandica questions.
Elysia laughs. “No. It should work in reverse.” She comes up behind Mandica, and slips the bib—she’s never going to stop calling it that in her headcanon—over her head, clipping it to the back. “Yeah. You can’t see the stone anymore; not at all. How did you get it to stop glowing?” It’s been months since the original Ravensgate Rescuer was killed. She has been training Mandica to take up the mantle ever since, and being a real good sport about losing her powers. She hasn’t complained or acted bitter once. She says that passing the baton to a young protégé is a staple of superhero stories.
“It stopped glowing on its own,” Mandica answers. “I don’t know how, but I believe I know why. I could feel it happen. I think it was fully done with its job, and was ready to go dormant, like a car sitting idle until you turn the engine off completely.”
“What happens if I touch it again?” Reagan asks, harkening back to the orgasm doing this gave her, which she has not told anyone else about.
“Nothing. Nothing will happen,” Mandica tells him. “Don’t do it.” She spends another minute looking over her shoulder into the mirror, and moving around to make sure the bib doesn’t slip off on its own. She takes a deep breath, and looks out the window. “I’m ready, but are you sure I shouldn’t start out after dark?”
“No, we want people to see your debut,” Elysia encourages. “They should see that outfit, and recognize you as the new Ravensgate Rescuer. You can move to the shadows later, but I would rather find a daytime replacement for Blue Umbra first.”
“I thought that Cardinal Sin was out there now.” With Blue Umbra gone, Wave Function has been going out on the streets without her. He’s not been alone, though. Cardinal Sin performed a heel-face turn and became a good guy, which is absolutely not unheard of in the superhero genre either. The public is generally on board with the change, but some hypothesize that it’s a ruse. They think she’s preparing something evil again. They don’t know what happened to her. She had to modify her own suit to cover up the massive scars on her face with a larger mask. She’s not ashamed of them, but they can’t be seen both when she’s Mildred, and while she’s masquerading as a vigilante. She had to pick an identity to cover them up for, with the obvious choice being the one where she’s expected to wear some kind of concealment anyway.
“I like the night too,” Jaidia says. “I don’t want to stop playing a hero, but I’ve never loved the sun. On Proxima Doma, I lived underground.”
Mandica nods in understanding. “Okay. I guess I’ll go out and look for trouble.”
“Trouble is already waiting for you,” Elysia claims. She walks over to the door and knocks on it, which is a weird thing to do when you’re already inside the apartment.
Anyway, it opens, and a man walks in. He goes straight to Mandica, and holds out his hand. “Hello. My name is Grover Pecan, but in the streets, you will see me as the supervillain known as Velvet Thunder. I’ll be aiding your debut today.”
“Wait, we’re...we’re gonna plan a fight?” Mandica questions.
“This is how it’s usually done for debuts,” Elysia explains. “You can fight the dummies in the training sector of the plaza. You can bend iron rods at The Depot. You can train in an abandoned warehouse. But nothing is like being out in the field, in a real fight. Think of it as the next—but not last—step in your training. Velvet Thunder will go easy on you, but for the sake of the civilians, he’ll make it look good. You fight as hard as you can. You do what you think you’re supposed to do. It’s staged, so if something goes wrong, you can learn from your mistake without worrying about being killed off on your first day. That used to happen constantly, so they started doing it this way.”
“Okay,” Mandica decides. “It’s nice to meet you, Grover, a.k.a. Velvet Thunder.”
He smiles at her. “I think you look great as the new Rescuer. I never got the chance to say this before, but have you thought about adding wings?”
After making a plan, Grover leaves to change into his dark cloud costume. They meet downtown and pretend to fight it out like gods amongst ants. Within ten minutes, an elevated train falls on Mandica, and she dies instantly. Maybe she does need wings.

Tuesday, April 14, 2026

Microstory 2647: Something to Punch

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Mandica starts looking for something to punch. She has only lifted heavy things so far, but she is starting to get a sense of how strong she has become. There are a ton of objects here for testing purposes, but she’s eying something in particular. It’s the concrete ruins of a building. Has it always been like this, or did they construct a building in the beginning of a simulation, and visitors have been smashing it apart all these years? After everything here has been destroyed, will they build it back up, or find a new spot for newbies. “Follow me.” She leads Elysia and Reagan that way, and approaches the corner. She pulls her arm back and—
“Stop!” Elysia demands.
Mandica built up too much momentum from preparing to strike the ruins. She’s still not used to her muscle weight gain, and ends up tripping and bashing her head against it. A huge chunk of concrete breaks off of the wall, and falls the rest of the way to the ground with her. Fortunately, it doesn’t hurt in the least. But it still freaks her out, because it’s not normal, and doesn’t feel right. Even a pillow fight can cause dizziness. “What? What’s the problem?” she asks.
Elysia steps closer, and takes Mandica’s hands. She rubs Mandica’s finger in her own. It’s almost sensual, but also clinical. “Soft, just like mine were.” She reaches into her back pocket, and pulls out two black gloves. They’re either the gloves she wore when she was the Ravensgate Rescuer, or an extra pair. “Here, try these.”
“I’m not becoming you,” Mandica starts to explain. “I just need to understand how my body works now. I want data to help me find a way to reverse it, or if not, go against my convictions, and transfer to a new body; one that’s more like I was before.”
“Do whatever you want,” Elysia says, “but look at my hands. They’re nice, right? Sexy. I didn’t wear those because I wanted to cover more skin. They were necessary. You are profoundly strong now. Most transhumans don’t make their bodies this powerful because it’s excessive, and comes with some downsides. Plus, with backup streaming, they tend not to worry about dying, just about dying permanently. You can still break, and if you punch that wall without protection, it could shatter your phalanges. The suit did not only represent my mystique as a raven symbol. It served a mechanical purpose.”
Mandica nods. “Okay. Thank you.” She puts the gloves on, and punches through the building like it’s butter. She can feel a ripple of energy as the force is distributed across the gloves. She must say, even though she never wanted any of this, it feels pretty good. It’s not like she thought transhumans were crazy by pursuing all of these enhancements. She always recognized and appreciated the appeal, and she never judged anyone for doing it. Her reasons for staying human were personal. But now that a different way of life has been thrust upon her, she’s questioning her whole philosophy. She’s trying not to show it, but she is scared to death...pun extremely intended.
As Mandica is brushing the concrete dust off of her fancy new gloves, she hears a crack behind her. More cracks as she’s turning back around. The building is wobbling, and with little further warning, begins to topple over. Mandica can only save one of them. She tackles Elysia to the ground, and spreads her arms like she’s trying to deter a bear, taking every hit of debris for Elysia. While it’s happening Elysia is just smiling up at her, not scared at all. When it’s over, they stand to see Reagan still alive too, balancing his sonic weapon against his knee, and pointing it towards the sky.
Mandica notices that Elysia is still smiling at her. “What? Why aren’t you mad? I screwed up, and could have gotten you killed. You’re in your regular body. That would have been the end of it. You shouldn’t even be here.”
Elysia laughs heartily. “You think I came here unstreaming? Sister, I’m always backed up.” Her eyes dart to the side. “That makes it sound like I’m constipated. But it sounds like you have a lot to learn about our subspecies. We don’t go anywhere without an exit strategy. I have no fewer than three backup bodies at all times, and a dozen more virtual partitions just in case, in addition to an airgapped duplicate that I update periodically as a failsafe. She won’t really be me, but she’ll think she is.”
Reagan nods. “Same. That’s standard procedure.”
“Oh. I guess I never really looked into how the system works,” Mandica admits. “It’s never mattered before. I suppose it still doesn’t. I remain just one person, and I can obviously still die.” She gestures towards Elysia.
Elysia frowns, and looks over at Reagan for a second. “My skin was hardened. I mean, it was soft, but hardened against attack.” She’s upset and confused. “That sword should never have been able to pierce my skin. It hasn’t before. I kind of feel like it was a different sword than the one she used a couple months ago? But still, I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how to investigate. Morgana may have come across something that bioscience is not prepared for. I suggest you stay the hell away from her.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” Mandica says. “I wanted answers, and I think I got all the ones I’m going to get. She wants to hurt me. She hopefully thinks she did.” She looks around at the handful of other people training. Some of them are still watching the three of them and whispering to each other. Knocking down a building facade must not be that common. “Though, she probably doesn’t. So I’m still in danger, but I will not be seeking her out. She knew that I was vulnerable. She knew that I could die, and she took my eyes anyway. I don’t care what she has to say anymore.”
“I think that’s the right attitude,” Elysia decides.
“Me too,” Reagan agrees.
“But just the same,” Elysia goes on. “I would like you to see something in my car. You don’t have to make any sort of commitment, but I want you to know your options.” They walk back to the dirt parking lot where cars are parked in random configurations. Elysia pops the trunk. Sitting there front and center, folded all nice and pretty, is her Ravensgate Rescuer outfit. “It’s up to you, but you’re not that much smaller than me, and I know a good tailor who can take it in. I think you would look good in it.”
“You actually do want me to become you,” Mandica says.
“The Rescuer isn’t a symbol of hope, nor a brooding nightmare for underworlders. She’s just a first responder. She helps you out of jams, or stops you if you’re the one causing the jams. Anyone with power can, and should, use it. That’s the point of my character’s persona. You’re not a sunny optimist, and that’s not what this role calls for. It just needs someone who wants to help; who wants to fight every day.”
“I know the bots have some worldview-protecting programming, but even they’re not gonna be fooled by this. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m black.”
Elysia laughs. “You wouldn’t be the first super-successor. No one will bat an eye. You’ll still be someone new. Just think about it, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll consider it,” Mandica relents.

Friday, January 23, 2026

Microstory 2590: Quidel Tears Through the Sac and Crawls Out Like a Monotreme

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Quidel tears through the sac and crawls out like a monotreme. He’s all alone, but he’s been through this many times before, and will be able to acclimate to his new body just fine. Of course, in most of those instances, he has had an institution to fall back on if he needed it, but it’s better than the alternative. A few months ago, he saved the “world” from a terrorist attack, almost single-handedly. As reward for his heroism, he was given an egg-shaped crystal trophy. In-universe, this was only symbolic; something to place upon his mantel, and lie about when in the presence of someone who didn’t know that he was a spy. In reality, it was an extra life. Spydome has a bunch of these little rewards scattered throughout the environment. You can’t just find them, though. You have to earn them, and most of the people operating inside of the storyline don’t understand their value. It just looks like a tchotchke.
After solving the secret puzzle by refracting light through the trophy in just the right way, a holographic message appeared on the base, telling him what he now had in his arsenal. It also gave him instructions for how to use it. He emptied the organic starter nanites into a sterile pee sample cup, and mixed it with the other ingredients, which included his own blood. What formed was an actual egg. A human egg. Of course, as a spy, he had safehouses and storage lockers all over the dome, so he chose a remote one to store his egg in a freezer, where it grew on its own from there. It has been sitting here ever since, preserved in its own self-contained stasis field, and kept cool by the freezer, which gathered dust in his absence.
Quidel flicks the interior safety mechanism, and climbs out. “Ugh, gross. I should have stored a shower in here too. This is basically amniotic fluid.” This locker isn’t heated, because that would just make it easier to find, and it wouldn’t help preserve the clone sac. It’s freezing outside, and probably windy. The device. The device is giving off waste heat as the RTG transmits power. He punches in the code to the cabinet, takes out the case, and starts hugging it. It would be better if he had the code unlock the case as well, but that’s probably not super safe anyway. Okay, he’s gathered a little bit of warmth. He only has two sets of clothes here. One of them is a tuxedo, and the other is jeans and a t-shirt. It’s unfortunate, but he’s got to clean himself off, so he uses the tux like a rag. Then he puts on the regular clothes, and hugs the case for a little bit longer.
Okay, he has to leave now. He didn’t store a phone, not because it wasn’t safe, but because he didn’t think he could trust anyone with this location, especially not given its rare contents. And when he came here to stash the device yesterday, he just didn’t think about it. He went into this experience with plans to be a lone wolf, and so far, that has played out as expected. He opens the door, and sticks his head through. The coast is clear. The storage lot is closed right now, because consciousness transference takes so long due to all the safeguards, so they’re not expecting anyone to be in here right now. He didn’t check in, with his alias, or anything. He’s going to have to sneak out, avoiding the cameras, and any guards who might be lurking about. This is what he trained for, though. This kind of thing is precisely why he signed up for Spydome in the first place. It was only his second choice.
He came here in the year 2500, which was when the planet opened up for non-beta exploration. Before this, he spent nearly twenty years in Empty Planet, and then another few months just relaxing in Polar Tropica. He likes adventure, and he likes to relax. After this is done, he still isn’t sure if he wants to switch to Underbelly or the Nordome Network. Maybe Baumrealm. That’s so many years away, though, unless this latest mission ends up cutting his spy life short. Not only does he have no more extra lives, but all of this has become super meta, which the Custodians may not like. This little ragtag team might be making huge problems for the entire system. They might shut them down at any moment.
Holding out hope, he calls upon his lessons, and sneaks over the fence, sticking to the shadows, and making no sound. He’s clutching the device case, still for the warmth, but also because it’s clearly quite valuable. While Quidel didn’t have the foresight to store a burner phone in his locker, he is aware of his surroundings, which means he knows that there is a no-tell motel just down this hill. He walks inside and slaps a hundred dollar bill on the counter. “I need your phone...and your discretion.”
The night manager lifts up the receiver of the corded phone, and punches in a code; one that Quidel recognizes from his training. “Carrier call log has been switched off, but you only have five minutes.”
“I only need one,” Quidel says back in a gravelly voice. God, that’s so cheesy, but back in the 1990s, that’s exactly the kind of thing the hero would say in a spy movie. As the manager is putting on his noise-cancelling headphones, Quidel dials, using his own code to prevent any local tapping. It adds an extremely annoying background screech to the call, but the voice will come through well enough, and it’s better than risking an eavesdropper. When the human Marshal answers, Quidel says, “I’m alive. Meet me at the northern border.” The country in this dome is called Usona, but it’s an analog of more than just the 21st century United States. There are four distinct regions, which also include a series of dome layers that are more like Canada, one series like Australia, and one like New Zealand, which is a bunch of islands. To get to one of these other regions, it doesn’t matter if you take a plane, train, or automobile. You’re gonna end up in an elevator. He really is standing by a border. He doesn’t actually need to get to the Canada-analog, though. Right next to the elevator is a maintenance tunnel that will lead them to Osman, which is this mythology’s analog for Pakistan.

Wednesday, January 7, 2026

Microstory 2578: Marshal 2 Walks into the Room Where Renata is Pretending to be Asleep

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1
Marshal 2 walks into the room where Renata is pretending to be asleep. He takes a sip of his orange juice as he stares down at her. Then he gets an idea, so he pulls out his phone, and perpetrates like he is talking. “Yeah, I’m lookin’ at her now. She almost died. Yeah, I agree, it would have been better, but what do you want me to do about it now? Well, that can certainly be arranged. We’ll just have to take care of the hospital people too. A few nurses, and a doctor. I’m sure they’ll be missed, but we’ll come up with a cover story. We’ll blame it on Granger; say that she went nuts, and killed half the floor.”
Renata suddenly reaches up, and takes Marshal 2 by the throat. She starts to try to squeeze the life out of him, which won’t be permanent if she succeeds. So he just smiles at her. She lets go. “Oh. You’re joking.”
He puts his phone away. “I’ve been doing this for years, kid. You’re not gonna fool me. But you should be proud of yourself. It’s the breathing. People don’t now how they breathe when they’re asleep for real, so they can’t replicate it. You did a great job.”
“Thanks,” she replies as she sits up, and pulls the pillow down to support her back. The other two?”
“They’re dead,” Marshal 2 lies. They did die, but they came back. Visitors always do, but that’s not something that this NPC would understand. She believes that all of this is real.
“If you were joking about murdering me, I’m hoping that means you won’t?”
“That’s not our style.”
“But I’m done with the NSD.”
“You’re done with the NSD,” Marshal 2 confirms. He doesn’t know why he’s even bothering to spin this yarn. They’re going to reset her memory, and tomorrow, she’ll start the whole charade over again with the same old script. This time, she’ll do it right, and help a new small group of visitors. She’ll inspire them to begin their journey in the simulation, and reach their potential. He won’t be a part of it anymore, though; not with her. They like to change things up, and there’s a theory that it’s necessary. Even though waking up and doing the same thing every day is part of Exemplar 1’s programming, there is still a risk of overfamiliarity. If her training officer is the same person each time, she might start to recognize him. It may even be what happened when she failed the escape room phase. In order to put everyone back on track, they’re going to start with a clean slate. She’ll even be getting a new mother to wake her up in the mornings.
Renata breathes in through her nose, and acts like she’s looking out the window, but it’s pitch-black out there, and bright in here, so she’s not seeing anything.
“How do you feel about that?”
“What do you care?” Wanting to be the best agent who has ever lived is part of her baseline. It’s sad, really, that she has the procedural memory in her brain to excel in the training program, but when she’s assigned to Phase 1, she never remembers. She lives her life in these isolated blocks of repeating experiences, never genuinely connecting them, and never being her true self.
Marshal 2 shouldn’t be worrying about any of this. When he signed up to work in this dome, he knew that he would be encountering a lot of NPCs. The majority of the people in here are AIs of various kinds. The dome has to feel lived in so visitors forget that it’s all scripted. There are Ambients out there who will never meet one of the main characters. They go about their lives day by day, just in case they intersect with whatever story path the visitors choose to follow. Marshal 2 doesn’t know which life is better, and which is worse. An Exemplar’s mind is reset when it’s time to redo the scenario, or start a different one, but an Ambient has no agency at all. He’s thinking about quitting, and maybe spending a decade or two relaxing in one of the recreational domes. No, that wouldn’t work, because they’re run by NPCs too, so he would just keep seeing it. He would have to go somewhere populated by natural-born intelligences, like Underburg. But not there, because that place sucks. “Well, I’ll leave you.”
“Wait. Do I have to sign something? I mean, obviously I signed multiple NDAs before, but is there something new pertaining to the unfortunate incident?”
He smiles at her. “No, you’re fine. It’s all covered. In fact, you’ll be compensated for the danger you faced. You’re not a millionaire, but it will keep you above water while you work on your next chapter. You got skills. Just because you won’t be an officer, doesn’t mean you’ll be stuck working at a grocery store, or something. Now get some rest. Someone will be by later this week to work out the details.” Another lie. They’re not gonna pay her anything.
“Wait. You never told me your name. I know I didn’t pass the test, but maybe you could tell me now anyway?”
He inhales through his nose. He shouldn’t even be thinking about giving her his real name. He decided a long time ago to go by the standard designation that NPC Marshals use, because it doesn’t help his character to have a complex backstory. He left his old life on Varkas Reflex behind, and he’s here now. But again, none of what she learns today matters. It will all be erased. So what’s the harm? “Lycander. Lycander Samani.”
“Nice to meet you, Lycander.”