#world0

As Cass left the store and what appeared to be the sole inhabitant of this place behind, she planned her next course of action. So far she’d just wanted to take a look around and explore a bit. But after coming across that empty house and the cage, she felt as though she understood even less what was going on. An impressive feat. 

There was always that pillar, but relying on some mysterious voice for answers didn’t seem like a good idea. Maybe she’d just go back to the weird yellow version of her room and see if all her stuff had come along as well. Change into some of her own clothes, if-

Wait. 

If Kharis had to be marooned on this alien planet with at least one other literal alien and/or long-deceased alien skeleton, at least the colour palette was just right. No, not quite just right — the spire she’d descended from when she awoke could have done with a gentle gradient — but commendably close. After abysmally failing at interrogating a random teammate on Trollian, she figured she’d earned the right to sit back and smell the roses. In space.

That was how Kharis found herself discerningly floating around the ominous outdoor cage next to the jail, searching out the perfect angle for an avant-garde photograph. The gigantic obelisk of pure light to its left limited her lighting options just slightly, but she couldn’t complain. At least there was surreal architecture here in the first place.

After an artisanally long consideration-floating session, the perfect shot finally came home. She loaded her vintage Solaroid, mounted it up on the tripod she usually used as a cane (was there much point in using a tripod when she was floating in the gentle embrace of gravity? She did it anyway, for the aesthetic), then gazed, with her usual statue-like impassivity, through the viewfinder. Right as she released the shutter, though— the absurdly muscular figure of a troll drifted into her composition from the distance.

Kharis squinted. Then she slowly lowered her camera.

Olly figured there was no use in interrogating the giant white phallus any further. If there was any symbolism involved in this weird lucid dream of his, he would probably have to figure it out himself. Taking a cue from various western RPGs, he walked off mid-conversation without a word of warning. His beloved wife Morrigan would surely be proud of his coldness.

A quick glance around him suggested that this district of Purple Town was abandoned. He almost felt the desire to explore further, but he couldn't risk running into someone. The lack of activity was, frankly, a welcome respite in the midst of graduate school madness.

“Prospit, child,” it answers, seeming to regain its previous all-consuming darkness, “the Kingdom of light. A city of dreams. No relation to the aspect of light.”

It chuckles. You’re not sure whether to find it endearing or alarming.

“Though, I’m afraid... Due to a certain set of circumstances beyond our control, you see, it isn’t... Much of a kingdom.”

A pause.

“Look around. You six are the only six individuals alive on this planet, should you attempt to look. Well... Correction. There are others, but their lives are quite different than yours. Unfortunate resultants of a gambit simply allowing you and the others to participate in the first place.

You noticed more individuals slowly gathering around these strange beings - the only other signs of life you’ve seen since waking up. Those were definitely aliens. Holy shit, actually.

You were not given much time to revel. The six on each dreamworld assembled, the beings began to speak in ethereal voices - the pillar, clear and booming; the beacon, wispy and harmonic. Those on Derse could only hear the beacon. Those on Prospit, only the pillar.

“Welcome,” the pillar spoke.

“Greetings,” said the beacon.

“You have all been chosen,” continued the pillar.

“You are all here for a reason,” sang the beacon.

“You are the architects of a new universe,” explained the pillar.

“You are going to play a game,” teased the beacon.

“But fear not, for I will give you guidance,” concluded the pillar.

“Don’t be afraid, for I will teach you,” assured the beacon.

“In fact, it has already begun.”

Their deviations passed, they spoke the same words after announcing the beginning.

“I - ... Well, we, really, apologize for the initial confusion. You belong to two separate species, from two separate planets, but you have all been chosen because of your proper fit. I will admit, it was difficult for us to ascertain this proper fit, but we believe we have determined the correct individuals appropriately.

“What happened to you and your home is of no consequence. You are now playing a game - a special game. To win this game, you must reach the door. But heed me well. You will know when you have reached this door. It will be after many trials. You are not to open this door. Understand me well, do not open the door. If you do that, all you know and all you ever knew will be gone forever, yourselves trapped in an eternal, torturous abyss.

“I will help you. We will help you. You will notice that your chat clients have been updated with a list of names. Pay attention to the two in black and white. One, you should trust - it corresponds to my own manifestation’s color. The other, you should not.

“As for how to win the game... Proceed through the worlds. Finish your quests. Achieve god tier by dying on your quest beds - it sounds scary, but you all must do it. We - I - need the power of gods to help you achieve the best victory you can achieve.

“I fear I am growing weak. I will communicate through through my avatar. The name in my own color. They are not me, but I can communicate both to and through them.

“I will assist you in getting to the first world shortly. Talk to one another. If you wish to chat with other names on your list, I cannot stop you. In many ways, this game is about teamwork - for all of you.

“You must remember not to open the door.”

And with that, the pillar and the beacon shrunk a bit and lost some of their imposing glow (the blackness of the pillar lessening; the beacon emitting many fewer wisps,) leaving the rest of you bewildered.

Your surroundings, when you were in your room, were at least kind of familiar. It was in the style of your room, so you knew where everything was, right? Logic would dictate that, once outside, it would be similar to the area which you lived, and you could navigate the outside quite easily. The towers and buildings were all distractions, right?

Sometimes in life you’re wrong. This was one of those times.

Also, holy shit you can float.

Ow. Except there. Fucking invisible walls. Fucking video games(?). Fuck everything. That hurt.

After a few minutes spend wandering, feeling completely lost, you eventually follow your ears sufficiently enough to find the source of the siren.

For those who awoke in a world of gold: a black pillar, perfectly cylindrical, seeming to absorb all light that comes in contact with it, shooting upward toward the sky.

Your computer turned on immediately after the explosion as it brought up a chat client, a bunch of names listed, most of which (perhaps all of which) you did not recognize. Popup after popup appeared: some looked like warnings, others like schematics, others strange images of gruesome monstrosities - oh wait, that was another warning. Sorry. Miscategorization. More schematics. Definition pages. Pictures of individuals you didn’t know (was that an alien? was that yourself?) Equations made up of pictures and strange symbols and even more enormous monstrosities (decidedly less gruesome, thankfully,) images of different planes -

You were given fourteen seconds to react, and no matter what you did, after those fourteen seconds, you lost consciousness. That, or you forgot everything. There was no way for you to be certain what happened. The images presented to you flashed by too quickly to get a definitive read on what they were beyond vague concepts.

When you woke up, you awoke on a strange bed, relatively foreign (but not completely so, you guessed?) but entirely monochromatic - gold or purple, depending. You wore clothes that did not belong to you, but were hella comfortable and probably hella expensive, so you figure it can’t be that bad. The room, though, after a moment of recognition, was styled after your own, just... In a different color.

Were you dead?

You slapped yourself to see if you can feel pain. Yep. You can. Maybe slapping yourself wasn’t the best option.

You heard a siren - a low droning coming from outside your open window. You swore you could hear words, but could make out no syntax.

So you gave the CD a chance. Who knows, perhaps there could be some hidden jewel (not the country-pop music artist) of your past on this disc. Perhaps you, at one point that you could not remember for whatever reason, were a budding archivist, keeping track of your life’s events as a personal historian and autobiographer. Perhaps you anticipated memories on that disc, perhaps you anticipated something else. For example, songs by the country-pop music artist Jewel.

There was a good chance you didn’t anticipate what was to happen, though. If you did anticipate what would happen, there was a good chance you were an evil wizard. A warlock. But, as there were no warlocks here, the only reasonable conclusion was that nobody knew exactly what was to happen.

A loading screen, inconspicuous at first, gave the impression of a game. Games were fun - you knew this from personal experience and societal standards set forth claiming that “games were fun,” to which you tended to agree as a whole. There were deviations from the status of games as “fun,” but as a general principle, you thought nothing wrong of it. You didn’t remember this particular style of loading screen, though, and figured it was a game you played when much younger, owed to children’s memories tending to be worse than adults’. It didn’t look like a virus. It didn’t act like a virus. It didn’t seem like a virus at all. You know, if it walks like a duck, makes noises like a duck (because ducks don’t talk...)

You felt safe with it until it shut off your computer.

Then you heard something outside explode.