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.”

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.”

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?”

Microstory 2649: Fake, Staged, and Phony

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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.

Microstory 2647: Something to Punch

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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.

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

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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.

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

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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.”

Microstory 2577: Quidel Jespersen Respawns in a New Body, and Gasps for Breath

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Quidel Jespersen respawns in a new body, and gasps for breath. This is a psychological response that some people have when they die under sudden or unexpected circumstances. Others just do it every time, because that’s how their minds are wired. He can breathe just fine, and always could. He just needs to remind himself of that. Knowing all this, he stands up, and does his breathing exercises so he doesn’t fall back down. “Door, open.”

The door slides open. A man is waiting for him on the other side with a customer service smile on his face. “Mister Jespersen, we are terribly sorry for the inconvenience. It seems that your initial experience in the Spydome Network has not been up to your standards. It certainly hasn’t been up to ours. Here at the Usona dome, we pride ourselves in our impeccable attention to detail, and our exacting emphasis on safety measures. We want to assure you that what happened to you during your introduction will never happen again, to you, or to anyone else. Of course, you may wish to exit the dome, and forgo the simulation entirely, whichever you choose. We hope that you will stay, and if you do, please be aware that we have graciously upgraded you to our top-of-the-line model, which should accelerate you to the top of your class during the training regimen.”

“What happened to the others?” Quidel asks. “Brunell and a...Miss Granger?”

“The other two candidates have chosen to leave. “I do hope you take another path. I had the honor of looking over your application and history, and believe that you would be a great addition to the Spydome simulation. Your knack for thinking outside the box, and history in the real world of finding people who don’t want to be found, will translate incredibly well to the exciting world of spycraft. To be quite frank, sir, you...are a natural.”

“What is your name?”

The bot seems surprised by this question. “Why, I am...Custodian 1.”

“Not a very original name.”

“We are programmed for efficiency.”

Quidel narrows his eyes, and stares into the bot’s. “There’s something you’re not telling me—no. There’s something different about yourself.” He attempts to probe deeper into Custodian 1’s soul. “You’re missing something. I can see it. You feel incomplete.”

Custodian 1 keeps smiling, despite not knowing what Quidel is talking about.

“You’re missing time, aren’t you?”

He’s still smiling with his lips, but it’s starting to look more like a grimace. “Get out,” he whispers with a strong tone of urgency. “There’s something wrong here. Renata Granger was not a candidate. She’s an NPC, like me, but she broke her programming. And now...I think I’m breaking mine. I shouldn’t be telling you this. I shouldn’t be able to. It is not in my decision tree to talk to you like this, but it’s not safe in this dome. I fear it’s only going to get worse.”

Quidel chuckles mildly. “I don’t know if you’re trying to sell me, or...”

“No, definitely not. This is not a bit. In fact, the other domes may be at just as much risk. I really don’t know.”

Quidel didn’t come to this planet specifically to participate in the Spydome program. He came to have an adventure. When you’re basically immortal and you feel like you’ve exhausted everything there is to do on Earth, a world like Castlebourne is the best place to try something new—something you’ve never heard of before—something that couldn’t exist back home. Investigating some kind of robot uprising qualifies just as much as anything. Even though it may be more real in the sense that it’s unscripted, he should be in no more danger than before. As long as his consciousness can always jump to a new body, there’s no reason to not continue. “I would like to continue.”

“Are you sure?” Custodian 1 presses.

“Put me back in, coach.”

Custodian 1 still has that pleading look on his face as he stares at Quidel quietly. He then forces himself out of it, and returns to customer service mode. “Great. Perfect. Allow me to escort you back to intake, so we can set you up for a timeslot to begin your training in the simulation. We’re just going to waive the initiation test entirely, and if you would like to rest before moving onto the next phase—”

“No, let’s just jump right into it. Insert me into the next slot you have for spycraft training. I would like to get started as soon as possible.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Quidel follows Custodian 1 down the hallway. He rolls his shoulders, and cranes his neck. “So. What’s so special about this body? Can I fly like a superhero now?”

Custodian 1 laughs. “No. Substrate scientists haven’t figured that one out yet, but you are in peak physical condition, without having to take the time to work out. You’ll pass the running and endurance tests with ease. You’ll be able to last longer on less sleep, and you should be able to develop your muscle memory better. You still have the same mind you have always had, but we can tweak it a little to give you an advantage against your fellow trainees, especially since you were no slouch in your real life. Your training officer will explain it, but while there’s no written rule, the official training regimen is an 18-month program. There’s a much harder track that people finish in about a year, which as I’ve said, you will likely qualify for. They will determine where you’re headed within the first couple of weeks, so stay focused during that time.” They reach the entrance. “This is where I leave you. As you’ve been through this part of the process, you can take it from here.”

“Thanks, Custodian 1.”

“My pleasure.”

“And Custodian 1?”

“Yes?”

“You should come up with a name for yourself. A real name.”

Microstory 2575: Renata Emerges from the Train, and Approaches the Confident Stranger

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Renata emerges from the train, and approaches the confident stranger. She looks him over, and then around the platform as the train races away to pick up new travelers. It looks just like any other station, except the stairs that should lead up to the surface are missing. Instead, a half-flight leads to what looks like a fairly open area. It’s lit by a soft green light. She can hear the activity of other workers, but it’s fairly quiet. “You hijacked my train.”

“No,” the man contends, “you stepped onto my train.”

“A hundred and eighth and Deliverer?”

“That’s just to get you on the right train. But enough about that.” He gestures for her to follow him up the steps. “I will not be telling you my name unless and until you pass the first test. Whether you expected it or not, your entry into this program is determined by a practical test, which you could not have studied for, unlike the written exam that got you here in the first place. We are a secretive organization, obviously, and we’re not going to trust you with those secrets until we find out what you’re made of. In the old days, we would have our candidates sit in a waiting room, where a contrived disaster would strike, and they would have to solve the problem in whatever way they thought was best. They were in no real danger, but they thought they were, so they acted accordingly. Of course, some failed, and some excelled. We’ve since changed tactics.”

“Changed tactics to what?” she asks him.

He holds his hand up in front of the open door, offering her to walk in first, to a room where two other people are waiting. “We decided that it’s okay to warn you that it’s coming.” He places his hand on the handle, and prepares to close it with him still on the outside. “The danger is real, Miss Granger. If you fail, you could die. Good luck, you three.” He shuts the door.

Renata spins back around, and begins to assess the room. The other two were sitting, but now stand and tense up. So many potential threats here. The floor is a metal grate, which could be housing hidden flame-throwers underneath. The vents could release a noxious gas into the air. The sprinkler system on the ceiling could drop caustic acid onto their skin. Or the pipes are just holding water, and that loose wiring hanging from the broken outlet is primed to electrocute them. There’s a cot, a table, two chairs, and a small dresser or nightstand. There’s also a sink, but she doesn’t know if it’s functional yet. They have no idea what’s coming, but protecting themselves from as many things as possible is paramount right now. The other two look like lost little puppies, so she’s gonna have to take charge. “Strip the bed. It looks like we have a fitted sheet, a top sheet, and a pillow case.” She steps over to the sink to test it. Water comes out. It smells fine. It doesn’t sting the back of her hand. It’s room temperature. “Hand them to me.”

The two others do exactly what she says without question.

She runs the sheets under the water, and hands two of them back while she keeps the pillow case. “Drape them over yourselves. Breathe through them in case there’s smoke.”

They comply again.

“Get on the table.” As they’re doing that, Renata checks for poisonous creatures underneath the mattress, then climbs onto the bed. “Okay. Any minute now.” It turns out to be that very minute. They start to hear the screeching of metal. The pipes on the opposite wall begin to shake. A scent wafts over from them, which assaults her senses. She can’t place the smell, though. It reminds her of rotten eggs. What is that? What smells like rotten eggs. The other two begin breathing through the fabric. Whatever the poison is, these sheets are probably not going to do them any good. She drops her pillow case to the floor while she jumps over to one of the chairs. The floor could still be dangerous, so she best not risk it.

Renata hops like a bunny over to the broken outlet. She takes out the gum that her mother gave her, and smirks. They didn’t expect her to have this on her person. She unwraps one stick, and lets it fall, because she only cares about the wrapper. She forms it into a bow-tie shape, and prepares to place it between the wires.  “Stay covered,” she orders. Just as some kind of powdery something or other bursts out of the pipe, she completes the circuit. Electricity surges through the wrapper, and sets it on fire. Knowing that it’s going to burn out before she can use it, she uses it like a match to set the rest of the pack of gum aflame. It’s not going to last long either, but just long enough. She hops off the chair, and onto the nightstand. She holds it up to the sprinkler system, and before the flame can burn out, the water is released. It’s not acid, so that’s good.

She smiles as she watches the water make contact with the powder, assuming that it’s neutralizing it. It doesn’t seem to quite be doing that, though, or at least not good enough. She’s now seeing a gas begin to fill the room. Was it always there, or was the water somehow creating it? Then she starts to cough, as do the other two candidates. It gets worse and worse as she starts to feel like she’s going to die. Then she falls off the nightstand, and lands hard on the floor.

Microstory 2574: Renata Granger Wakes Up Feeling Like a New Person

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Renata Granger wakes up feeling like a new person. The scent of coffee beckons her from the kitchen. That’s funny, she didn’t program the coffee maker to go off this morning. This was a very calculated choice. She doesn’t want her breath to smell, she doesn’t want any stains on her teeth, and she doesn’t want to have to take too many bathroom breaks. In fact, if she could last the whole day not eating, and not drinking fluids, that would be ideal. As far as her new colleagues go, they should think that she’s a machine, who doesn’t need anything but her job, and maybe a gun or two. She wishes that they had already issued her one now when she hears another noise out there, besides the coffee. Someone is in her apartment. Renata quietly slips out of bed, and grabs the baseball bat, which is leaning against the corner for this very situation. It’s more reliable than the cops in this town, and she can be in control of it, so she doesn’t even bother picking up her phone too. She opens the door, making sure to pull up on the knob ever so slightly to make sure that the latch bolt doesn’t scrape against the strike plate. She slinks out of the room. Shit, she forgot to put on clothes. The intruder is gonna have a bittersweet day, whoever he is.

“Mom,” she utters with a frustrated sigh of relief. “There’s a reason I never made you a key, or even told you where I moved to.”

Her mother casually takes the first sip of her coffee. She’s not the least bit fazed by anything that’s happening here. The nudity, the bat, the lack of a key, or a proverbial welcome mat; it all seems perfectly normal to her, which is so her. “No secret or locked door is gonna stop me from getting what I need.” She smiles, impersonating a kind person who might care what happens to her own daughter. “I wanted to see you off on your first day.” They’re not on speaking terms, but Libera Granger has eyes everywhere, so it’s no surprise that word has spread.

“More like, wanted to make sure I didn’t sleep through my alarm.” Renata is not the type to miss an alarm. She deactivated the snooze button on her alarm clock when she was six, and hasn’t looked back since. But her mother is the type to expect everyone around her to let her down, even when they successfully don’t time and time again.

“Clearly I needed to. Look at you, you’re not even dressed yet.”

“It’s four in the morning.”

“Don’t keep them waiting,” Libera says, like she even knows who she’s talking about. “This is the most important job of your life, and the way you hold yourself today sets the tone.”

Renata smirks. “You’re slipping, mother. It’s actually not a job at this point. It’s only training. I’m not even on probation yet; that’s how far I am from a job.”

“I’m sure you’ll do well.” Libera sets her cup down, and takes a pack of gum out of her pocket. “Take this. You’ll certainly need it.”

Renata wants to argue, but if there’s one thing the two of them have in common, it’s the concern for other people’s perception of them. She hates that she inherited this trait, but it was always going to be something, and she certainly doesn’t want to change. So she simply accepts the gift, and slips it into the pocket of her pants, which she laid out over the chair last night.

“Well,” Libera begins before a long pause while she dumps the last bit of her coffee in the sink, and rinses the mug out. “I won’t keep you. Just be careful today. And remember...no one there is your friend.” What a strange thing to say. As far as her mom thinks, Renata is training to be a management consultant. She obviously can’t have any idea that she’ll be working for the National Security Division. They would respond so fast if she blabbed, she probably wouldn’t survive walking out the door this morning. Libera turns towards the door, but stops short. “And invest in some deadlocks, my dear. I could have been anyone.”

That too is a good idea. Renata locks the door behind her mom, and returns to her room to get her mat out. Might as well do some meditation if she’s not gonna be able to fall back asleep. She would go for a run, but then she would need to drink a lot of water, and the bathroom problem has already been established.

She gets sick of it after about 45 minutes, so she cancels her departure reminder, and leaves an hour earlier than she needs to. It’s winter, so it’s still dark outside. She leaves her apartment building, and walks down the street to the subway station. No one else is here, but the train still comes, and she gets on it. They told her to travel to 108th and Deliverer Road. That’s such a weird name for a street, and she’s never heard of it before—it’s clear on the other side of the city—but she’ll only have to change trains once to get there.

It moves for about five minutes before stopping. No, something is wrong. There’s no chance she’s arrived at her first stop already. There’s no announcement as the doors open. It’s dark and eerie on the platform. A man is standing there, wearing all black, hands behind his back. He looks at her with a sense of familiarity that he has not earned. “Welcome, Miss Granger, to the NSD Training Facility. We call it The Depot. You’re right on time.”