Prologue: Insert Coin

View Online

When you hear the numbers 'One hundred forty thousand, then eighty thousand three days later', what do you think? Odds are, nothing. Those numbers are probably meaningless to you. However, if you're of Japanese descent, and you had ancestors who hailed from Hiroshima or Nagasaki, you'd know that those numbers are the rough estimates of how many people died, and how far apart, when the first atomic bombs were dropped.

Right, sorry, I forgot that one member of our audience is a pony, not to mention my little changeling here. Let me explain, for the two of you, so you'll understand the basics. The atomic bomb is one of the most powerful, and most terrible, weapons ever made. It can wipe out an entire city in the blink of an eye. Worse, it leaves a blight upon the land that it hits that lasts for decades, one which can kill anyone who ventures into that region if they do not wear the proper protective gear. On August 6th, 1945, one such weapon was dropped on the city of Hiroshima. Three days later, a second was dropped on Nagasaki. While a third one did not exist at that time, the threat of one being dropped on the city of Tokyo ended World War Two.

Why am I starting with that little tidbit of trivia? I'll explain.

My name is Hiro Ecks (Yes, it says that on my birth certificate. Don't look at me like that: My parents thought they were doing me a favor). Two months ago, I single-handedly killed two hundred and fifty thousand people, more than both bombs combined. Well, not people in the conventional sense, but they were sapient creatures with hopes, dreams, lives, and families. Some of them might have been evil and deserved it, but the overwhelming majority of them didn't deserve what I did to them. And yet, two months ago, while sitting in my chair, holding my controller, directing what I thought was a digital warrior wielding an equally digital sword and fighting digital monsters, I slaughtered more 'people' than both Fat Man and Little Boy put together... and at the time, I thought it was good, honest fun, and that I wasn't hurting anyone. And yet, because I was after an achievement in a video game, I hunted down enough living creatures to make even the most prolific serial killers in human history look like a bunch of of wannabes.

The achievement's title? Really? Fine. The achievement was named 'Kill Everything, Everywhere, Forever. Twice.' Took me a total of forty-seven hours to complete. That was In a game that normally tops at twenty hours, including fighting the bonus bosses. Yeah, I really didn't have much of a life outside of video games...

Anyways, moving on!

A week later, Agent Smith over there (No, I know that isn't his real name, that's just the nickname I gave him when we first met. He got the reference, and thought it was funny as hell. It's one of the reasons why I like the guy: In spite of looking like a Smith, he actually has a sense of humor), he walked into my house, sat me down, and we had a long talk about what I had done. See, I was a... cat's paw in a very powerful entity's play for becoming the absolute ruler of another world. The world, incidentally, my little avatar was running around on, murdering enough people to fill a football stadium thrice over. I won't bore you with the details, and if you do want to be bored by them, Agent Smith can give you a copy of the official report, I'm sure. Why did he seek me out? Well, that's a funny story.

Smith is part of what is called a Non-Existant Agency, or an NEA for short. That's an agency that does not officially exist, but actually does. The purpose of Smith's NEA is smoothing the way for when magic, and everything else that flies in the face of what we humans accept as reality, comes back in full force. Please note that I said 'when', not 'if'. It is expected to finally happen, if not in my lifetime, then in my childrens', if I ever have any. As Smith once told me, 'You can't stop the rain, all you can do is make sure everyone has an umbrella'. It's kind of like a version of the MIB that handles magical stuff: They let the cool ones in, and keep the bad ones from wrecking the place. Oh, and yes, the MIB are an actual thing, according to Smith. I'm not sure if he's just fucking with me or not. With him, it's hard to tell.

Anyways, back to why Smith sought me out: See, there are three major categories of people who encounter an event that involves magic, inter-dimensional contacts, or anything else consider bizarre by human standards. Smith could tell you more, but the category you fall into has a lot to do with suspension of disbelief: The ability to believe in something unreal, at least temporarily, is a major factor in whether you can actually 'see' it. If you're willing to believe in the fantastic, at least temporarily, you'll perceive it, and believe it, when it happens to you. Otherwise, you'll never see it for yourself.

Type Ones are called Deniers: They literally deny, unconsciously, that whatever is happening, is happening. You stick them in a room with a magical monster, their minds will overwrite what they see, replacing it with something normal. In extreme cases, Smith has told me that there were folks who literally ignored the monster chomping on their entrails, making no attempt to defend themselves against the monster killing them because, in their minds, nothing was there, and that nothing bad was happening. Like I said, extreme cases. Deniers are much less common than you might think: Fantasy and science fiction are opening a lot of eyes to the magical and fantastical. Yes, that and the fact that man-eating magical monsters tend to weed them out from the proverbial herd. Evolution in action: Ignoring threats is not exactly a beneficial trait for long term survival. Deniers make up a fraction of one percent of one percent. Very rare.

Moving on, Type Two is called a Marginal: They can sort of see what is going on, enough to be curious about it, but unless they encounter these events on a regular basis, they'll shrug and move on with their daily lives. They're the type who say 'I'm sure there's a logical explanation for that', then move on without trying to find out the truth. There's a lot of marginals out there. Ninety-five percent of the world's current population, in fact, sits on that line. Funny thing is, unlike Deniers who cannot change their ways at all, all that a Type Two needs is a solid push, and they move into the next category.

I'm a Type Three, a Digger. When we see the impossible, we know something is wrong, and we start investigating. We dig for the truth, even if we'd be happier not knowing it. I saw something impossible when my game console exploded two months ago, and I immediately knew that something was going on. When my involvement in the incident came to light, Agent Smith checked, as a matter of protocol, to see if I'd done any investigation into what had happened. He was surprised to see that not only was I investigating what had happened, but I had also posted a few of the conclusions that his own team had reached on a forum that I frequent. I knew that something physically impossible had happened, I just hadn't realized that there's more than just the 'Physically Possible' out there.

Smith decided to pay me a visit, and give me a briefing. Standard procedure with a Type Three: Diggers can't be bargained with or reasoned with, see? Once we get started, we won't stop until we hit pay-dirt or die trying, and a natural born Type Three is considered too big an asset to kill, even if the NEA was in the murdering business. They're the good guys, believe it or not. Besides, once a Category Three knows that magic is real, and knows who to call when strange shit goes down, we can basically work as spotters for the guys in the suits and sunglasses. Smith himself was a Category Three in his youth. Long story, you can ask him about it later. It's funny as hell.

Anyways, I'll save you the boring details of our conversation: It isn't really all that important to this discussion. The basics were that yes, magic was real. Yes, something magical happened, and it destroyed my gaming console. Yes, there's more to the story, he said, and I can brief you on all of it. However, he warned me, it won't make you any happier, knowing the truth. He was right. Heaven help me, but he was right.

He told what his own agency had found out, and what it had meant for the people on the world involved... and how it all ended. He did his best to make sure I understood that it wasn't my fault, that it was just a one in a million chance, and that I was no more guilty that the dozens of other players who had done similar things, all unaware. Oh, and that it wouldn't happen in any other games that I played. He understood how important that last part was to me. Didn't help much, honestly, but I'm grateful he tried.

In the aftermath of what happened, I had... attacks when I played games. Blame it on an overactive imagination, but I had 'flashes' when I did things in violent games. Imagine, for a moment, if every time you did a Zerg Rush, you had a vision of living Terran marines getting shredded by alien monsters. Imagine if every time you hopped on a goomba, that you were killing a living creature whose only crime was being easily squished. Imagine if every time you scored a headshot in a first person shooter, you killed a living human being. And merciful heavens... you'd never look at 'No Russian' the same way, ever again.

No, I'd rather not go into detail on what that last part means, dear. Not today.

Under other circumstances, I might have sworn off video games forever, or stuck to nice, safe stuff like Cooking Mama, Harvest Moon, or dating sims. Safe stuff where no one gets hurt, and everyone lives peacefully and happily. Any sane person would react in a similar manner, I think. Sadly, I had obligations: I was part of a team of competitive gamers... and we had a major tournament coming up in a few weeks. Could have put us on the map, maybe get us in the nationals or the internationals. That would be a massive payday for all involved. What, don't believe me? In the first League of Legends World Championship, the winning team, Fnatic, took home a prize of $50,000. Fnatic had only five members. Do the math. Every championship afterwards has had a prize of a solid million. Yeah. E-Sports is getting to be a major thing. Me and my team had big dreams, being the first Americans to take home the grand prize.

My... attacks (Okay, yes, I'd get sick, vomit, curl up in a ball and whimper pathetically for an hour. Happy? Good. Moving on!), they interfered with my ability to play, to perform my role. Since I was my team's best player, my being unable to perform meant that the entire team would suffer. Worse, given the time remaining, there was no way we could find a replacement and break him in before the tournament started.

Had I not received an email, giving me a free 'alpha' for a game in development, I'd have been left an emotional cripple for the rest of my life, in regards to my favorite past-time. Instead... well, we'll get to that soon enough.

Sugar, if you like, you can take over for a bit. My throat's getting sore. Thanks.
------------------------------------

My birth designation was 8163264128. I'm a changeling, and the world I called home was the same one that our pony friend here hails from.

The word 'changeling' comes with a lot of baggage, back home. It's a word to describe an entire species of migratory creatures that feed on love. But there is a great deal that is left out of that little description. Our... unique diet has forced my species to do some bad things, so that we can ensure that everyone gets enough to eat. Well, that, and an amoral, heartless, and power-grabbing leadership. The aristocracy keeps the common class down by keeping a stranglehold on the love supply. Everybuggy knew it, that there was enough love energy in even one aristocrat's house to keep the entire swarm alive for decades, maybe even centuries. Good luck getting it, though.

The aristocrats wanted to maintain their hold on power, and keeping us hungry was just another way of doing it. Even the fact that we were given numbers instead of names at birth was a way of keeping the common class down: We weren't raised by our own parents, but instead by the swarm as a whole. That way, we wouldn't have any ties of loyalty except to our fellow changelings. We weren't even allowed to know who our parents were.

It's the same everywhere, I've heard: The one percent holding ninety-nine percent of the wealth, am I right? My society was just a little more... direct about how that status quo was maintained. We were given little choice in how we could live: Desertion was punishable by... well, it wasn't pretty, and the aristocracy was of the opinion that anyone who ever whispered of changing the way things were should be silenced in the ugliest and most spectacular way possible. The nail that stuck out was not simply hammered down, but every nail around it would be given a few good whacks for good measure.

Your own world has more than a few countries who live under that kind of tyranny, as I understand it. Now, now, I am not judging. I knew, coming here, that it wasn't all sunshine and roses. No place is. While Equestrians like our little pony here might be more idealistic, my upbringing has left me with a more realistic attitude. Yes, yes, and left me bitter as hell, yes. No one is denying that. I thought you were going to let me talk for a bit. Are you? Okay, good. As our friend here likes to say, 'Moving on!'

After the failed Canterlot invasion, I was thrown a long, long way. I landed in some sort of a... palace. Well, the ruins of one, anyway. No, not that one, but a good guess. Pleasant enough place, though. Or it would have been, if not for the scores of deadly creatures outside... and the fact that my wings were bent out of shape. No, that was not a figure of speech: My wings were folded at right angles halfway down their length, and would stay that way until I moulted. With my wings out of whack, flying was not an option. Worse, I was low on love, and there was no way I could fight through the monsters outside.

I was... well, let's not mince words: I was useless in combat. Worse than useless. I was a liability: I'd just as often get someone on my own side hurt as myself. So, instead of being a soldier, I was little more than a maid, polishing armor, carrying water to injured changelings, and whatnot. Stuff that was necessary and could free up a... competent changeling for other work. The reason why I was low on love was because, when a battle was pending, the folks who couldn't fight would have to give up what they could spare so the soldiers could fight more effectively. As a result, I'd only been left with enough juice for a few weeks after Canterlot, and before we reached the moment when Hiro and I met, I'd come within a few days of running out...

Had I known what was waiting for me under that palace, though... Well, to be honest, I wouldn't have had it in me to risk it, given what was waiting between Point A and Point B. I'd never pretended to be brave, and it would still be a little while before I would be able to grow a metaphorical backbone. Still, if I had known, I still might have been tempted to try, anyways.

...After all, a Wishing Star, a relic that can make a single wish come true, is a pretty fantastic prize.

Chapter One: Press Start To Play

View Online

Okay, I'll take over for a bit.

My role in the story starts where every gamer's story should: Playing games. I was practicing with the rest of my team that morning, as per my usual. I had been having 'attacks' for a couple of weeks by then, but I had hoped that I might be able to power through them. I was fooling myself, honestly: The attacks were getting worse, each time, lasting longer and getting more extreme. However, I was not willing to face yet the very real possibility that I might never be able to game properly ever again. However, that day, I was about to have the worst attack yet, and it was going to be a humdinger.

I was playing League Of Legends with my crew, and we were on fire that day. I was rocking the top lane with Wukong, and the others were playing their parts so well it was like a symphony. The other team was decent, but they may as well have been standing still for all that they managed to accomplish in the face of our superior skillz. Yes, that's 'skillz' with a 'z'. We were dunking on all three lanes. Creeps were falling in droves. The other guys were trying their best to get a foothold in, but the truth is that they were feeding us like they were being paid to. The Nexus was in sight, and we were...

Right, I forgot how many non-gamers were in the room. I can explain what those terms mean. Not necessary? Alright. Long story short, we were winning, big time. No contest. Even when... even when I had my attack, they were still able to pull through without any problems. But...

Right, I should explain what one of my attacks can entail, so you'll get the idea...

Anatomy of an 'Attack': I'd get a flash, kind of like a picture in my head, of what I was doing, from the 'monster's' point of view. In this case, a little creep seeing a six-foot ape man swinging around a metal rod with both hands, striking down the other creeps around him. Then, it builds: He's seeing his friends, his comrades-in-arms, getting mowed down in droves by this maniac monkey, before finally getting slaughtered himself, by getting his head caved in by the righteous rod of cranial destruction. Imagine the fear, the horror, the agony that he felt in his last moments, seeing this unstoppable juggernaut and being powerless to defend himself. And I'm the one responsible for it. Me. I did that. To someone whose only crime was being in my way. Just because I wanted to win...

A tidal wave of guilt, horror, and self-loathing then washes over me, and I hurl. I mean, I projectile vomit, big time. If I'd not had a split-second's warning, I'd have blasted my monitor. Instead, I puked in a trash can I kept conveniently beside my chair. Since this wasn't my first rodeo, I'd learned my lesson, and kept myself well prepared. From there, I logged off, sat huddled in a corner and cried for the better part of an hour. Yes, I cried. I am secure enough in my masculinity to admit that I have shed a manly tear or two. Admittedly, this round of weeping wasn't exactly dignified, but that's hardly important, is it?

Moving on! Understandably, my team was worried about me. They're pretty cool guys and girls, and we've been together for a while. I went to high school with two of them, and the other two I met in college. We've gone to a few tourneys, not just LoL but other stuff as well. I won't brag, but we've won a whole lot more than we've lost.

They... knew about my attacks. Well, they knew that I was having them, not what was causing them. Even if I explained it to them, I doubt that they'd believe me. Perhaps more importantly, I'd been asked not to spread the word about magic being real: For my friends' safety, believe it or not. Diggers like me are weirdness magnets. If I told them, they believed me, and they moved from Marginal to Digger status, then it was almost guaranteed to bring some sort of major supernatural event into their lives... and not all supernatural events are pleasant... or survivable.

Anyways, I apologized for bugging out on them at the worst possible moment. I begged off training for the rest of the day, and told them we'd pick back up in a week: Give me some time to really get my head together. Honestly, I think we all needed a break: Like I said, our next tourney was coming up, so we'd be gaming like maniacs soon enough. A little R and R before then would be a blessing.

A couple hours later, after cleaning up the mess, taking a shower, and putting on a change of clothes, I returned to my computer. I'd not yet gotten around to replacing my gaming console: With my attacks, I'd seriously considered putting gaming on a hold until either the next generation consoles came out, or I got over my attacks, whichever came first. Meantime, my computer was working just fine. My rig is pretty boss, I won't deny it. I've invested a lot of time, money, and love into it, and it has paid me back a thousand-fold. Top of the line, in every possible capacity. I could give you the specs if you'd like. No? Are you sure? Okay. If you change your mind, let me know.

Alright, fine. Anyways, I sat down, powered on my pc, and was surprised to see I had an email from someone I didn't know. Rather rare event, given which account it had appeared on: I keep two email accounts, my public and 'private' email. My public email is mostly used for registration purposes and such: Stuff that requires an email address so you can sign up. Problem is, that ends up with you getting hammered with spam and ads and shit. I use my private email address for personal use. Keeps the annoyances to a minimum. Only a small number of people know that this second email address exists, and they all know not to give it out to anybody without asking me first.

So, I had just received an email from a party I did not know, on an account that they should not have known about. That rang a small alarm bell, but I just assumed I had slipped up somewhere and gave my private email out by mistake. Honest mistake, it happens. Before opening, I researched the sender, found that it was a small indy games company by the name of Dimensional Designs Software. I checked their webpage, it seemed legit. I sent them an email, asked if they really had sent me an email. Turns out that, yes, as a matter of fact, they had.

They had selected me, picking my name out of a random sampling of individuals who had participated in gaming tourneys over the last five years, to test out a new 'alpha' for a video game that they were developing. It was pretty unique and interesting stuff, the way they pitched it. The idea was that, by using voice recognition software and cutting edge artificial intelligence, the player could guide and teach a computer-controlled 'companion' to navigate a dungeon and solve puzzles. Now, normally, I'd be hesitant about taking on an escort mission, since those can be kind of a headache, but after Bioshock Infinite, I'd changed my mind about that kind of thing. DDS promised that my digital companion would be well crafted, and fully capable of interactive dialogue over the course of the entire game. They didn't say that it would pass the Turing test, but it was heavily implied that it might. I was intrigued, and since this particular game seemed less about violence and more about puzzles, it seemed like it would be pretty safe for me to pick up.

I opened up the original email, now that I was confident that it was safe, and set it up to begin installing. While that went on, I began getting ready myself: Drained the lizard, made sure that my bowels weren't likely to require attention, made sure that I had a good meal in me, with plenty of snacks to keep me going on hand, if need be. I also made sure my headset was ready, and I tested to make sure the microphone was working properly. I didn't know if I'd be playing this for an hour, all day, or just fifteen minutes, but I wanted to be ready, regardless of the situation. I take gaming seriously, in case you haven't noticed. After all of that, which took me two hours (Yeah, sorry, I move slowly, folks. You can obviously see why that is). After that, I read the instruction manual, and familiarized myself with the controls. While I didn't control my companion directly, I would have a digital avatar that I would be managing.

In a way, it seemed like a pretty interesting premise, honestly: Rather than playing Link, I'd be playing Navi. Ha! I knew most of you would get the reference. I resolved myself to refrain from being as... irritating as she was, though, and if I ever uttered the words 'Hey, listen', it would only be if there was something worth listening to.

Moving on! Once everything was installed, and I was confident that I'd be able to play the game properly, I booted up the game.

Dear, maybe you should tell this next part.
---------------------------------

Thanks, love.

That morning had started out the same way that just about every morning had started since the Canterlot Fiasco. I rose from the cold stone floor of the musty palace's throne room, turned to face the sun... and then cursed as loudly as I could. Yes, as a matter of fact, Equestria does actually have curse words. You won't hear them very often, but they exist. They don't have quite the bite that the curses that you humans use, but we on the pretty pony planet get by.

After screaming 'MUUUUUUUUUUUCK!' at the top of my lungs, I then began to detail how I felt about the current situation I was in, as well as... well, to be honest, everything I felt that was wrong and unjust about the world. After my first day of being stranded, this rant had topped off at five minutes. By this point, the rant was over two hours long, and growing. I had about five days left before I ran out of love, and entered dry hibernation. I was understandably upset.

I'd, um, rather not go into detail about what I was shouting, beyond what I've already said. I was yelling it all, knowing that no one was going to hear it. I don't think that I could ever say that kind of stuff to someone's face...

Anyways, after that, I sat on the throne and rested. Yelling loudly like that takes a lot out of you. That, and it's fun to sit on a throne. Seriously, you should try it sometime. The fact that, on my third day of exploration, I'd located a crown, royal regalia, and a rather tattered royal cape made it even more enjoyable.

Yes, Hiro, I was 'cosplaying'. I really had nothing else that I could do to pass the time, and paradoxically, acting a little bit crazy helped me stay mostly sane. If there had been any other intact clothing available, I would have spent the rest of the day wearing fancy dresses. Yes, really. Sweetie, you already knew that I liked to look pretty. That didn't start just because...

Look, we're getting a little far afield. Let's just move on.

After I got my energy back, I would go out to the edge of the palace grounds and look at what lay between myself and freedom. It was not a pretty sight. The palace in question was situated atop a small plateau that only had one road in or out. Everywhere else, it was a drop from a cliff with a crumbling rock face. Fun fact, ladies and gents: Changelings can stick to walls, but that ability cannot defy the fundamental laws of physics. If the wall cannot not bear the weight of having a full grown changeling stuck to it, it will fall apart, and the changeling in question will fall off. Common sense, right? That meant that there was no way I was climbing down without splattering myself on the ground far, far below. Flying, due to the previously mentioned damage to my wings, was out. And the road?

It was a monster mash.

Seriously, it was like every carnivorous monster in the world had congregated onto the road in order to ruin my life. Some sort of force field protected the palace, but while it seemed that it would let me in and out, it kept the monsters from coming in to get me. But since they knew that there was a free meal waiting inside, the monsters were willing to wait me out. They took turns keeping watch, and at any given time, there were at least twenty monsters on the path, watching me to see what I did.

Intelligent carnivorous monsters don't often feed on one another. Have you noticed that? They'll often work together and share the food from the kill, rather than risk getting injured in a fight over territory and/or food. Some even become friends. Keep that in mind, the next time you try and trick monsters into fighting each other, it might save your life. The power of friendship can cut both ways.

Anyways, I stood on the road, a short distance away from the edge of the force field, and... considered taking a few steps forward. Yes, I know exactly how bad that sounds, but let's be rational here: Dry hibernation is not a picnic, folks. It is a fate worse than death. I've... experienced it a couple of times, and while it may have been very brief, it was horrible enough that I knew I didn't want to be stuck like that forever. If I went into dry hibernation, there was every possibility that I would be trapped that way until the stars went out and the sun burned itself to cinders. If I fed myself to the monsters, at least it would end quickly.

But I suppose that, underneath all my bitter cynicism, I'm an optimist: I still held out hope that someone or something might come to my rescue. I still had five days left. Maybe something would happen...

Turns out that I was right.

When I came back from my little excursion, I saw a small golden orb, about the size of an orange, floating in the middle of the throne room. Asides from the fact that it was levitating at about eye-level, and the fact that it was perfectly round and immaculate, there really was nothing that impressive about it.

And then it spoke.

"Good afternoon," the sphere said, with a cheerful voice, then asked, "How are you doing today?"

Sitting down, shocked, my eyes flew wide and my jaw dropped. After a moment, I finally said, "It finally happened. I've gone crazy." If I could have cried (Changelings don't have tear ducts), I think I would have.

The sphere asked, "What makes you think that?"

"The impossible, floating golden orb asked," I snarked, irritation immediately coloring my tone.

"A point for you," he (and by this point, I was certain that the voice was that of a male) admitted, then added, "But let's assume, for a moment, that you aren't crazy." The orb moved closer, and after a moment, began circling me slowly. After a moment, I realized that it was looking me over. After a few seconds, he asked, "What in the world are you?"

"I'm a changeling," I answered promptly, then asked a little angrily, "And just what, and who, are you?" My isolation and impending doom had made me a little... testy, I admit.

You want to take this next bit, sweetie? I honestly can't say it with a straight face.
---------------------------------------

Okay, I'll be happy to. I admit, I was acting a little bit silly for the next few minutes. This 'game' was supposed to have a pretty advanced AI, and it is a little habit of mine that, whenever I encounter a new AI, I test it to see just how good it is. In most games, that just means seeing how it reacts to unusual and unexpected actions. With dialogue based AI's, I would occasionally throw unusually worded sentences that, while not inaccurate, were hard to follow. Oh, the things that I have said to chatbots... and made chatbots say. I decided that I would put 'her' through the wringer, just to see which way she would jump.

Ah, before I go any further, I should describe, for those of you that have yet to see one, what a changeling looks and sounds like. In particular, this one. Okay, imagine a pony. Now imagine that, mixed with a beetle. Now give it the fangs of a saber tooth tiger. Okay, now, here's the most important bit for our friend here: Imagine, coming from her mouth, instead of whatever sort of clicking, buzzing, or hissing (Yes, or neighing) you were expecting, give her the sexiest voice you can imagine. I mean, her voice was like Michelle Pfeiffer's in Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas sexy. Yes, you've heard her, but you're hearing her voice coming from that mouth. You can expect that voice from her now. I, on the other hand, was hearing that voice coming from something that looked like H. R. Giger had been asked to draw a pony. Paradoxically, it made her voice sound even sexier. Weird, I know.

Ah, but I love embarrassing you: You're so cute when you blush. Yes, alright sweetheart, I'll continue, sorry. Moving on!

"I am a human," I announced, a smile beginning to form on my face.

At the time, I was impressed: I had to admit, the graphics were quite good on this game: I could see the look of confusion form on her face. I had yet to realize that I was looking into another world, of course. After a moment, she asked, "What is a human?"

"A species of advanced super-monkeys who have attained dominance of our planet through the mastery of lightning, metal, fire, and explosions," I stated, somewhat flippantly, I admit. Yes, yes, simmer down, everyone. If you won't stop laughing, I can't continue. All done? Good. Thank you. After a moment, I asked, "What's a changeling?"

Her expression still confused, she said, "A love eating bug monster." Moving closer to examine... me, I guess, or rather, the orb that was my link to her, she asked, "Are you sure you're a monkey? I've seen monkeys, and none of them were so... spherical. Or metallic. Or could speak." She picked 'me' up and began examining 'me' with intense scrutiny, now obviously very curious.

Chuckling, I said, "This is not my actual body. This is just an avatar that allows me to communicate with you. I am actually a very long ways away."

After a moment, she began shaking 'me'. After a moment, apparently disappointed that nothing rattled inside, she asked, "Okay, and your name would be?"

I sighed, then said, "Hiro Ecks." If there was one thing I hated, it was introducing myself to others. I mean, seriously, my parents thought that they were doing me a favor, giving me the name I have. I admit, it was my father's last name, and my maternal grandfather's first name, but really, having that kind of name is guaranteed to give you problems. For starters, no one is ever going to believe that 'Hero X' is your real name. It sounds too much like a comic book superhero, or a japanese manga henshin hero's codename. No one takes a guy with that kind of name seriously.

"If you didn't want to tell me your real name," she said, crossly, "you could have just said so. You didn't have to give me one that was obviously a fake."

Annoyed, I said, "That is my real name"

After a moment, she asked, "Really?"

"Really," I said, crossing my arms over my chest, knowing full well what was going to happen next.

I was not disappointed: She immediately burst out laughing. And by laughing, I mean she was letting out great, booming guffaws of laughter, right in my 'face'. I admit, given her voice, it was pleasant to listen to, but pleasant or not, getting that reaction my entire life had become something of a sore spot with me. After she'd laughed for a good five minutes (Yes, sweetie, it was five minutes. I counted), I asked, my tone more than a little cross, "And what's your name?"

Her laughter stopped so suddenly I had thought that she might have swallowed a bug or something. After a moment, she said, "I... don't have a name. My birth designation is 8163264128."

I immediately recognized that numerical sequence: It was the number of bits for each generation of console games, from first to sixth. A cute little joke, I thought, but then noticed that the changeling on my screen's cheeks had turned bright blue. Given that, and her overall expression, it was clear to me that she was embarrassed. Bizarrely enough, I felt embarrassed that I had embarrassed her.

I immediately asked the first thing that came to my mind. "Would you like a name?"

Giving me a suspicious expression, she said, "I would, but I don't know if I'd like a name that you picked."

That was surprising, but it might have been a way for the system to prevent people from giving her an offensive name. After a moment, I asked, "Well, how about I just give you a few ideas for a name, and you pick one?"

"Alright," she said with a nod.

I was immediately tempted to say something like 'Fagballs' or "Garuth Gobulcoque" (So glad at least a few of you got that reference), but immediately quashed it. Like I said, it sounded like there was an obscenity filter in this game. I tried something simple, something that I thought she might approve of. "Midna."

"No. I don't like that one," she said, flatly. "Try another."

Oookay. In a similar vein, I asked, "Zelda?"

"That one's even worse."

"Tifa."

"Do I look like a Tifa to you?"

"Fair enough. Samus?"

"You do realize I'm a girl, right?"

"That is a girl's name."

"No, it's not."

"Yes it... nevermind. Bayonetta?"

"That's not even a name."

I couldn't argue with that. In fact, I was kind of impressed that she recognized that wasn't a standard name. I sighed, then asked, "Jade?"

She actually gave that one some thought, then said, "Nah. I don't really feel like a Jade. I liked that one better than the others, though. Any other ideas?"

I thought for a moment about that. This... AI was impressive, I admit. It seemed that this game offered me an incredibly intelligent companion to work with. That reminded me of something...

Like I said, a recent game caused my to change my mind about 'Escort Missions'. Most of the time, when you had an escort, your companion was often a Load who kept you down, who held you back at worst, or just kind of sat on the periphery contributing nothing at best. However, in the game 'Bioshock Infinite', your companion proved herself to be incredibly helpful, and never got in your way. In fact, she would often assist you in battle, throwing you much needed items when they were needed most.

Thinking back on it, I suppose that she was the first video game girl that I actually sort of had a crush on. Hey, no, I am not blushing. I... you really think that I'm cute when I blush? I... um...

Okay, moving on!

"Elizabeth?"

"I like that," she admitted, then said, "It's a little formal, though..."

"I could just call you 'Liz' for short," I said, quickly.

"Liz. Elizabeth. I... I like that. Elizabeth. My name is Elizabeth." A smile spread over her face as she said that. She sounded... so incredibly happy, saying that.

I couldn't help but smile myself as I said, "Nice to meet you, Elizabeth." My tone a little more serious, I said, "Now, let's talk business."

Chapter Two: Forming A Party

View Online

I'll take over for the next bit, honey.

After coming here, folks have been surprised by my ability to shift 'mental gears' so quickly: Most folks will take a while to adapt to a new and unusual situation. Call it... mental flexibility, if you like. Honestly, I've always been surprised how long it takes a non-changeling to adapt. Changelings are used to a world where everything is hostile to us, and have adapted accordingly. In a way, it's kind of like why there are so few Type One's in the world: A changeling who cannot quickly adapt and overcome will not live to see adulthood.

That is why, the moment that Hiro said 'Let's talk business', I had instantly shifted from elation at having a name, one that I thought was quite lovely, to suspicion as to what this 'Hiro' was really up to. Paranoia is another trait that changelings have developed to an art form. When everything really is your enemy, though, can you really call it paranoia?

Anyways, the first words out of my mouth, in response to that little statement were, "Just what kind of business are we talking about, mister super-monkey?"

The orb, still hovering at eye level, let out a chuckle, then said, "Well, I was sent to aid you in navigating the dungeon."

Now, this confused me a little bit. See, when you humans talk about dungeons, it can mean two things, either a castle's prison or a complex maze of traps and puzzles. Back home, it's only the first one. I had explored the castle pretty thoroughly, I had thought, including the dungeons, and had seen nothing spectacular there.

"Hmmm, maybe I'm using the wrong word for it," Hiro said, seeing my look of confusion. He paused, then asked, "What do you call a large complex of subterranean tunnels and chambers, filled with traps and monsters, all for the sake of protecting a treasure?"

"Something I want no part of," I answered immediately. Traps and monsters were not something that I wanted any part of, and as for treasure...

Changelings don't need money. We're a race that survives on love energy. As such, we don't place a lot of value on currency, or any other material wealth. In fact, in terms of possessions, the average changeling does not have much beyond what can easily fit inside of a stomach pouch. Me, myself, the only thing I had was a small, heart-shaped piece of rose quartz that I had picked up as a hatchling. Yes, this one, right here. Thank you, yes, it is quite lovely, isn't it? One of the first things I did after coming here was having it set in a gold chain. Well, after I threw it up...

Ah, back to the topic at hand.

The voice coming from the orb seemed a little surprised, as he asked, "Really? I would have thought you'd be at least a little interested. I mean, it may sound a little cheesy, but a Wishing Star sounds like quite a prize."

Ah, I should probably tell you all just what a wishing star is, before I go further. Our pony friend here might have heard of one, but the rest of you likely have not. A wishing star is one of the rarest and most powerful relics in the entirety of the world I once called home. They are, given their nature, extremely rare, since they are quite literally stars that fell from the sky. In ancient times, one was turned into a sword that granted its wielder the limitless power to destroy an unkillable villain. Before that, an evil wizard used another such star to create relic that allowed him almost godlike control over the entire world... and the destruction of that relic damaged the world on a fundamental level. To possess a wishing star is to possess the ability to impose your will upon the world.

So naturally, you can understand why I was immediately interested, yet at the same time, even more suspicious than before. Too good to be true, and whatnot.

Very carefully, I asked, "There's a wishing star? Here?"

The orb bobbed up and down, almost as if nodding, then said, "That's the information I have, yes. Fifteen floors beneath this palace, there is a wishing star. I've been informed that it doesn't have much power left, but it can grant a single wish to whoever reaches it."

Just one wish. That would be all I needed, though. One wish would get me out of the palace, and could take me anywhere I wanted to go. I'd have to be careful how I said it, of course, but that would my ticket to freedom. Or better yet, I could wish for enough love energy to last me a lifetime (or twenty), wait for my wings to heal, and just fly off into the sunset. It would be what you humans would call my 'Golden Ticket', my chance at changing my life forever for the better.

My suspicion levels rising, I asked, "And you're leading me to it? Right. Pull one of the others, they have bells on them."

"I'm not joking," Hiro said, his tone completely sincere. So much so that I very nearly believed him then and there. But a lifetime of being a changeling gives one trust issues like you would not believe.

"And why," I began, "pray tell, would you lead me to a wishing star? What's your game?"

The orb began revolving around me, and said, "Game. Interesting way of putting it. Hmmm... I wonder. Nevermind, not important. My 'game', as you put it, is to get you from Point A to Point B, so that you can use that star to grant whatever wish your heart desires, with all your bits still attached."

My suspicion levels were nearly at their peak, as I asked, "And what do you get out of it?"

"The satisfaction of a good deed done for another," Hiro stated, coming to a stop right in front of me.

Maximum suspicion levels reached. "Malarkey," I stated, flatly. "You're lying."

The orb's voice sounded... hurt, strangely enough, as he asked, "What makes you think that?"

Sitting, then crossing my forelegs over my chest, I stated, "'Follow me,' you say, 'and I'll lead you to a treasure that just happens to be the one thing you need more than anything else. It's all yours, I don't want it, and I don't want anything in exchange for helping you.' The world doesn't work that way." It was, to me, like that van in some pictures online that said 'Free Candy'. Obviously a trap, so much so that it would have made me laugh if it wasn't happening to me.

"Maybe it should," Hiro said, flatly.

With a snort, I admitted, "Yes, it should." Fitting him with a glare, I continued, stating, "But it doesn't. I don't know what it is you're after, if you're just trying to lead me into a trap, or if there really is a star and you need me to get you close enough to it so you can make a wish, but I know you have some sort of ulterior motive to all of this."

Hiro was silent for a moment, then asked, "So... if I said that I did want something from you, in exchange for leading you to the wishing star, you'd be more inclined to trust me?"

"Yes," I stated flatly, nodding. Yes, I know that may sound weird to you, but to me, someone doing something for me for no other reason than because they were trying to be nice was weirder. If I at least knew that he wanted something from me, I could at least count on him following through on his offer to help me in exchange for his reward.

Okay, honey, you'll need to say this next bit. This one is even worse than the last one. I'm already giggling, just thinking about it.
------------------------------------

Alright, alright.

Okay, a little bit of background, so you'll understand this next part a little better. Back when I was fifteen years old, my parents took me with them on a trip to Japan, to meet my grandparents. While we were staying in Tokyo, my father decided that it would be good fun to take me to 'meido kissa', or a 'maid cafe' in English. What is a maid cafe? It is a cafe where the majority of the staff is composed of cute japanese girls in maid costumes, who wait on you for the entire time you are there. Only in Japan? Would it surprise you to hear that there are a few here in the states as well? I thought so. Oh, and most of the maids at this cafe? Teenage girls around the same age I was. Yeah, it would sound like heaven now, but...

As I said, I was fifteen, and I had just started noticing girls. So, understandably, I was awkward and embarrassed, to the point that I could barely speak. I was pretty shy back then. My father thought that the entire situation was funny as hell. It didn't help that my father paid extra to have one of the maids spoon-feed me my meal. He laughed the entire time, and it was a week before I spoke to my father again, and um... the first thing I asked him was if we could go again.

Yeah, it turned out that I kind of developed a thing for cute girls in maid costumes. What? Don't look at me like that. At least I can admit it. Besides, as far as that kind of stuff goes, that's fairly tame, isn't it? I can think of much worse things to ask someone than to put on a maid costume and wave a feather duster around...

Anyways, moving on! I told you that story so you'd know where this next part came from.

"I... want you to serve me breakfast in bed," I stated, after a moment's hesitation.

Elizabeth's expression of confusion was almost comical. "What?"

"I want you to serve me breakfast in bed," I repeated, then decided to try for more. After all, at the time, I still thought it was a game, and I wanted to see just how far I could push the AI before it completely gave up and went nuts. "While wearing a maid costume. And by serve, I mean that you have to spoon feed every bite to me. And you'll have to do it every day for a month. And you know what? You have to stay at my place, doing whatever I ask you to do: My house could use some cleaning, and I'm not very good at doing that. And you have to wear that maid costume the entire time." I was on a roll: I was certain that, if I kept it up, I'd crash the game. That was the point of testing an alpha build, right? Take it to the limit, to see where it might break down. I was about to add more ridiculous demands, put icing on the cake, so to speak, when I heard a most unusual sound.

Have you ever head Elizabeth giggle-snort? No? Well, you should sometime: It's adorable. Yes, even hearing it from H. R. Giger pony, it was still cute as hell. The fact that, just a moment later, she fell on her back, laughing her ass (Oh, wait, sorry, flank) off only made it more pleasant. She really does have a wonderful laugh, for someone who has spent her whole life being bitter.

After a solid ten minutes of uncontrolled laughter (Yes, sweetie, I counted. Again), she finally calmed down, and regained her composure. Getting back up, she looked at me... and burst into a fit of the giggles. When she finally calmed down again, she admitted, "I haven't laughed so hard since I was a hatchling."

"Well, I'm happy you're happy," I said, chuckling a little myself.

She started laughing, but quickly got it under control, then said, "You sure know how to flatter a girl, Mister Super-Monkey. Do you even know what you just asked me to do?"

Perfectly straight-faced, I said, "I asked you to dress sexy for me and wait on me hand and foot for a month." Well, hoof and hoof, but let's not get into semantics right now.

She looked at me (Well, at the orb, I guess), then her eyes widened a little. Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. After a few seconds, she closed her mouth with a click, and her face turned bright blue, starting with her cheeks, but quickly spreading out to cover her from the top of her forehead to the base of her neck. After a moment, she giggled nervously and said, "Um, yeah. That's more or less it..."

Yeah, she was blushing like she is right now. If you think that a bug-pony can't be adorable, you've obviously never seen one blush bashfully before.

I... felt kind of embarrassed then, seeing how much of an effect that request had on her. I started to say, "If you don't want to..."

"No, no, it's fine," she said, maybe a little too quickly. "I just wasn't expecting you to say that. Changelings don't get compliments on our looks very often from non-changelings. And I..." Elizabeth paused, then said, "Nevermind. It's not important. I... I really am flattered. And if that's all you want for helping me, that's a surprisingly small price to pay. Especially right now."

A little confused, I asked, "Right now? What's happening right now?"

The blush beginning to fade from her face, Elizabeth admitted, "I'm sort of trapped here. After... well, after some things went wrong for me, I wound up here. My wings are damaged, so I can't fly out of here like I normally would, and the only road leaving this place leads right through monster-infested territory. A force field protects this place, so they can't come in, but if I take one step outside, I'll be eaten within short order. Worse, I'm... running out of love energy. I have a little more than five days worth, after which I'll... well, let's just say that any chance of escape that you can offer me looks pretty good right now, regardless of the price. So... yeah. If you're true to your word, it's a deal. The full maid service, for a month. And I won't breathe a word of complaint the entire time."

The instruction manual hadn't included that piece of back-story, and normally, a time limit would be considered a major piece of information to share before the player starts the game. Then again, this was supposed to be a game still in development. A surprisingly well-crafted game still in development. I was starting to get suspicious, maybe, but I was not yet at the point where I was seriously considering the possibility that something magical was going on. I was still under the premise of Agent Smith's promise that this was never going to happen again being correct. Still, I was beginning to suspect that there was something going on here. It would still be a little while before that particular penny truly dropped, but it was getting closer to the point where the proverbial coin would start to fall. "Five days, huh?" I hmmm'ed, thoughtfully, then said, "Well, time's a wasting, then. The sooner we get this done with, the sooner you'll be out of this mess."

With a small giggle, she added, "And the sooner you get to see me in a maid costume."

I said, jokingly, "If you had one available, I'd ask you to go ahead and put it on now."

A sly smile crossed her face, and she asked, "You mean, like this?" And then, the most remarkable thing happened.

Green fire enveloped her body, and after a split-second, her appearance changed. When the fire faded, she was still a changeling, but one wearing a surprisingly frilly maid costume. Imagine a french maid outfit on a horse, but somehow... sexier. It was... alright, I'll admit it, I was at a loss for words. Nothing should ever look that cute, that sexy, and that weird at the same time. I honestly had no idea how to react to the adorable maid bug pony creature I was now seeing. My original plan had back-fired: The game had succeeded in fucking with my head.

After a moment, I said, "Yeah, like that. That's... um, not going to make you run out of love faster or anything, is it?"

"By about... three seconds, if I don't take it off," she admitted, after a moment. "It doesn't use up much power to change my appearance so little. It's only a small cosmetic change." After a moment, she blushed a little and said, "If you, um, wanted something a little more complete, I suppose I could..."

"Let's put that on hold for right now," I said, stopping her from going any further. Her world, as far as I knew, did not have humans, and I wasn't going to waste her time trying to walk her through how to look like one, just for my own entertainment. The reasons I had were purely practical: I'll admit, I'm one of those guys who will spend hours at the character creation screen, making the perfect character. Once I get started, it is hard for me to stop, and we were currently operating on a time limit. Besides, odds were, the game didn't have a 'human' character model. I thought it was odd that there was even a 'maid changeling' character model, but I figured that I'd just stumbled onto an Easter Egg. Either way, time was short: If the game truly was 'complete', I had a finite time limit to reach the goal, and I couldn't be sure if that was a limit in real-time or game time just yet. "Let's get to the entrance to the dun... the place where the star is being kept. We'll have plenty of time for shenanigans later."
------------------------------------

My turn, sweetie. Sit down for a spell.

As Hiro's orb began leading me through the dusty and decrepit corridors of the palace, I was struggling with unfamiliar feelings. I was aware that Hiro wasn't a changeling, a pony, or anything else like that, but on the world I lived on, there were thousands of different sapient species, and inter-species romance was common enough that it didn't do much beyond raise an occasional eyebrow, and that was only in cases where the differences in size and/or biology were so extreme that they seemed nearly impossible to overcome. Changelings, at that time, might have been an exception, given the way that most species viewed us, but that wasn't the point right then.

I'd assumed that, when he had first asked, that Hiro hadn't realized just how... alluring that some creatures find a female in a maid costume. Yes, as a matter of fact, some things do cross world boundaries. When he asked me to wear a maid costume, I assumed that he was just asking for all that because he thought that a bug in that kind of garb would be amusing. But when he specifically said that it was because he wanted me to look sexy for him...

Sorry, I'm blushing again. Give me a second to get it under control. Okay, here we go.

The fact that he had complimented me, even if it was indirectly, on my looks had struck a chord with me. Back when I was with the swarm, I was... filthy. Bottom of the bottom rungs, remember? I couldn't contribute anything beyond menial labor. As such, I was practically invisible: Other changelings wouldn't even look my way, growing up. Since nobuggy bothered to look at me, I stopped bothering with keeping myself clean. In fact, I made a game of it, at first, making myself as filthy and disgusting as I could: After all, if nobuggy wanted to come near me, then they wouldn't seek me out to give me additional work. When I matured, I went to greater lengths, to avoid... the wrong kind of attention. I made myself nasty enough that it was impossible to tell if I was male or female, and nobuggy wanted to come close enough to try for a close look. I'd wash myself when I was preparing to moult, for the sake of sanitation (You don't want to know what dirt can do to a still-soft exoskeleton), but as soon as my carapace had hardened, I'd find a nice mud puddle and roll around in it. Stinkmud for preference, but nearly anything would do. Although... I tried getting skunked once. Bleh. Skunk scent makes stinkmud smell like perfume in comparison. I never want to try that again...

Anyways, after my arrival at the palace, I'd done a bit of exploration to kill time, and found that, while most of the place was in poor condition, the baths were almost pristine. I think that there it might have been some sort of enchantment protecting the place: A room that sees water and steam on a regular basis would benefit from spells that protect against the damage that both can cause. Either way, through some feat of architectural and/or magical engineering, water still flowed into the baths. As such, there was clean, running water, both hot and cold, as well as a variety of soaps and scented oils, kept in jars spread about the room (Preservation spells, darling: Even in modern day Equestria, they're pretty common. How else do they keep food fresh on a world where refrigerators are rare?). Without a single changeling for miles, I saw no point in keeping myself filthy, and took the time and effort to get myself cleaned up.

Maybe after keeping myself filthy and undesirable for so long, hearing someone say that, yes, I was in fact physically appealing had a far greater effect than it normally would, but regardless, I now found myself... curious. About Hiro. About his species. About a lot of things, honestly. I was nineteen years old, and I'd not even been kissed before. And up until five minutes ago, that had been fine with me. Not anymore...

"Here we go," Hiro said, as we came to a rather unassuming stretch of hallway. "If I'm reading this right..." The orb bopped itself against a brick that, upon closer examination, stuck out slightly from the rest. Behind the wall, the sound of hidden mechanisms whirred, and a section of the wall moved backwards, then to one side. Beyond the opening that was revealed, stairs led down into the depths. Dust was thick upon the steps, and cobwebs hung from the ceiling in thick strands. It was obvious that no one had come this way in ages.

"It's dark," I noted, looking down into what looked like a stairway leading into a yawning abyss. "I don't like the dark," I admitted after a moment. Yes, I'm afraid of the dark. I'm also scared of thunder, snakes, and skunks. Happy? Good. Let's move on.

"I think I might be able to help with that," Hiro said. After a moment, the orb began to glow with a gentle light. A few seconds later, a direct cone shone down the steps, allowing us to see further down. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you," I said, then began my way down into the depths, Hiro descending with me.

Chapter Three: Dungeoneering Lore

View Online

I can keep going? Okay.

The staircase led down a fair ways, and surprisingly enough, the dust and cobwebs stopped about halfway down. The transition between undisturbed for ages and so pristine that you thought that someone had just polished it was startlingly abrupt. When we reached the threshold, I immediately mentioned it to Hiro, who remarked, "Probably some sort of magic in place, to keep the dungeon intact. If this place is as old, or older, than the palace above, it would likely have collapsed upon itself long ago without some sort of supernatural assistance."

"You've used that word again," I observed, a little confused. "'Dungeon'. Why do you call it that?"

"Ah, well," he began, then seemed to think for a moment as we continued walking. After a few seconds, he said, "Years ago, two guys named Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson created a game together called 'Dungeons and Dragons'. It's... I guess you could call it a very formal game of 'Let's Pretend'. Players create a character that they control: Fighters, mages, healers, rogues, or other types, and working together as a team, they explore a 'dungeon'. The word is used as a generic term for everything from ancient ruins and tombs to the lairs of powerful wizards and nightmarish monsters. The game can range from a basic 'Dungeon Crawl', where a group of adventurers search the 'dungeon' for treasure while fighting off hordes of dangerous monsters, to an extended campaign that can cover anything from a search for lost friends or loved ones to a battle for the fate of a nation, or even the world itself. Forty years, and four editions later, it's still being played, and its basic framework has spawned a thousand variations the world over."

"Interesting," I admitted, more than a little surprised. Admittedly, it sounded a little like something that was for individuals with a great deal of free time on their hands, but...

Well, we had nothing better to do, asides from talk, while we walked down the steps. I asked, "And you've played this game?"

"Yes," Hiro answered, immediately. "A group of my friends and I get together once, sometimes even twice a week and play. We've been doing it... just about every weekend since I was fourteen, so I guess it would be almost ten years now."

I can do basic addition just fine, thank you very much. "So, you're, what, twenty-four years old?"

Chuckling, the orb replied, "Exactly right. I... hold up, there's a door up ahead."

Hiro raised the concentrated beam of light up ahead, and lo and behold, yes, there was a door. It looked... fairly ordinary, to be honest with you. Admittedly, it didn't need to be that impressive: It was a door at the bottom of a staircase behind a secret passageway. Decorations would be wasted on it, if you think about it. It was stout, made from oak wood bound in iron. Picking up my pace a little, I advanced on the door, and checked to see if there was any sort of locking mechanism. Nothing that I could see. A gentle push and the door went open as if it weighed nothing. I peeked at the chamber beyond, and...

What I saw took my breath away. The chamber beyond was tall, and octagonal in shape. Straight ahead, there was another door, over which hung an odd mosaic. Upon the walls on the left and right, more mosaics, depicting a series of scenes. In the center of the room there burned a brazier, lit with blue flame. Before I could get a better look at the room, I was interrupted as Hiro abruptly zipped into the room, shouting, "LORE!!!"

The orb began immediately zooming about, apparently studying the walls of the chamber. A little nervous, I approached the only other light source in the room, the brazier. I looked around, trying to get a better look around, but the light from the flames was not very good. Meanwhile, Hiro was zipping around happily, chanting 'Lore' over and over in a sing-song voice.

Yes, this was my first experience with one of Hiro's infamous 'Lore-gasms'. It would not be the last that I would see on this little adventure. Eh, we all have our little personality quirks. Being avidly interested in video game lore to the point of distraction isn't anywhere near as bad as some of the things that I've seen. You want to talk about fucked-up shit, I could tell you stories about the aristocracy of the changeling swarm that would give you nightmares. Yes, even you, Agent Smith. Yes, I know you've seen some shit. I assure you, I've seen worse. When you're considered practically invisible, you can see things you would pay money to unsee.

Anyways, I figured that, whatever Hiro was doing, it was important, and I needed a little pause to rest my legs after that stairway, so I gave him a few minutes. Once I was rested, I called up to the floating orb, "Anything worth sharing?"

This broke Hiro out of his little 'moment', and he cleared his throat, and said, sounding embarrassed, "Yeah, I found something interesting. Let me show you."

Hiro directed his beam of light to the mosaic directly over the door first, and said, "This one, I think, is a sort of general map of the 'dungeon'. Fifteen floors, each one denoted by a small icon. I can't say this with absolute certainty, but I expect that each icon notes what we can expect on each floor. Since the icons repeat every five floors, I expect that, once we clear floor five, we'll have a rough idea of what to expect for the remaining ten."

Looking at the mosaic, I saw what he was saying: The fifteen tiles, if they truly represented the floors, had a pattern: A book, a block, a boot, an eye, and a skull. That order was repeated twice more, for a total of fifteen. The skull worried me a little, but I kept my concerns quiet for the time being. A small dot next to the book at the very top seemed to imply that we were on a 'book' floor.

"The other seven mosaics, on the other hand, tell a story, or at least the start of one." Turning the light to the next mosaic, the one of the right, he illuminated an image showing a group of strange, difficult to identify creatures. They seemed to be some manner of fox, but I couldn't be sure. They were certainly in trouble, seeming to be beset on all sides by monsters. The fox-folk all seemed to be reaching up towards the sky, as if in supplication. The sky in question was a starry night, with one incredibly large star at the center. "The beings who built this place faced danger on all sides," Hiro began, giving narration, "but lacked the means to protect themselves from their attackers. In desperation, they begged the heavens for aid."

Turning his light to the next mosaic, I saw that the creatures below were suddenly jubilant, and the monsters surrounding them were retreating. The foxes were gazing in teary-eyed adoration at the skies. Looking up, it was clear why: The largest star had changed, becoming a fox like them, and was descending from the sky, a crown upon his head. "The heavens answered their wish. One of the stars in the sky came down, taking the form of one of these fox creatures. He would be their leader. Their savior. Their king."

The light turned to the next scene, showing the crowned fox leading his new subjects somewhere: A great expanse of forest. It took me a moment to realize that this was the forest surrounding the plateau atop which the palace sat. The plateau itself was strangely absent. A starry sky was still visible overhead. "The king led his subjects to a new land..."

The next image was illuminated, and the king was, with an imperious gesture, causing the massive escarpment to rise from the ground, with a fully formed palace, as well as a city surrounding it, already clearly in view at the peak. In the starry sky above, it seemed that there was a blank spot where one of the brighter stars once shone. "...Where he built for them a city, one where they would be safe from harm. However, doing so expended a portion of his strength, and if what I am thinking is right, it seems like there was a finite limit to how much he could do..."

The next image in the sequence revealed a path, the one leading up to the palace, with scores of monsters advancing upwards. Some sort of barrier, likely the force field or some precursor to it, blocked the army of attackers, but the monsters seemed to be making camp at its boundary, preparing for an extended siege. From a vantage point atop a tower in the palace, the king looked down upon the monsters in anger. Another star was missing from the sky. "The enemies of the foxy ones pursued the pilgrims up the path leading here. While they could not enter the city, due to the king's power, the monsters would not leave. They intended to starve the foxes out."

Another mosaic, this one showing the king summoning... creatures from the very stone of the plateau. In the starry sky above, three stars more stars went out. The creatures were abstract, but recognizable. "In order to clear the path and break the siege around his city, the king created three champions, golems made from solid stone, to do battle with the monsters. A wolf, a panther, and a ram."

The final mosaic in the sequence revealed a scene of brutal battle. The wolf, panther, and ram were doing battle with a seemingly endless sea of monsters... and were clearly winning. The wolf's savage bites, the panther's swift claw swipes, and the ram's mighty charges were cutting through monsters as if they were made of tissue paper. Those portions of the attacking army not locked in battle against the three golems were clearly in the beginnings of a full retreat. "The golems could fight endlessly, without need for food or rest, and since they were not living things, fought without fear of injury or death. Moreover, since they lacked hearts and were but mindless automatons, they could fight without mercy, which the attackers discovered to their horror. Without flesh to rend or blood to spill, the monsters had no means by which to overcome the three champions of the foxy folk, and were quickly routed."

"That... may explain a few things," I admitted, after finally taking all of that in. No wonder there were so many monsters around: Their ancestors had likely decided to camp out in forests surrounding the city, in order to wait for a chance to attack the city again in revenge, and when the city finally fell, they took up permanent residence in the region. It also explained why such an unnaturally extreme escarpment sat in the middle of a region that, otherwise, was mostly flat. Most important of all, however, it explained why there would be a wishing star here...

Some portion of the ancient fox king's power remained here, at the bottom of the 'dungeon'...

Bobbing up and down, as if nodding, the orb said, "Yes. I think we'll find more answers on the next 'Book' floor." He hmmm'ed, then said, "It's oddly reminiscent of the story of Fou Lu..."

Confused, I asked, "Fou Lu?"

"Ah, sorry," Hiro said, then explained. "Where I come from, there's a series of... stories, collectively called 'Breath Of Fire'. The stories mainly involve dragons. In the fourth installment of the series, the tale involved how a tribe summoned a being from beyond their own world to become their leader. The... summoning didn't go as well as this one did, but it did succeed in calling forth a very powerful being, even if said being was incomplete. That being, named Fou Lu, established an empire that lasted for ages, but ultimately exhausted himself, and was forced to slumber until his missing half emerged, so he could become whole and lead his people for all eternity. Fou Lu's story was, ultimately, a tragic one. He... well, I shouldn't bore you. Time limit and all that." Clearing his throat, he said, a little awkwardly, "We should get moving. We have four more floors to clear before we'll see what happened next."

I nodded, then moved towards the exit. Once opened, the doorway revealed another stairway, leading further down. Hiro in tow, we descended. I admit, though, I was a little curious, at the time, what happened to those three champions: If they weren't protecting the mountain pass from the monsters camped outside, like they did in the past, then where were they now? They were stone, not flesh and blood, so it wasn't as if they could die of old age or illness, and given that the three of them were a match for an army, it wasn't as if just any old thing could have defeated them. Those questions would be worrying me at the back of my mind for some time...

...At least until we reached the fifth floor, where we would learn the answer the hard way.

Chapter Four: Fun With Blocks

View Online

My turn? Okay.

Alright, I'll admit, I was a little embarrassed by how I acted when I was confronted by the possibility of new 'lore' to examine. Some guys don't care about that kind of thing, and just blast through it. Me? I read every bit that I come across. I take notes, and see how different bits of history come together. Part of it is practical: Sometimes, hidden in the lore, is an easter egg that might lead you to a secret you might otherwise miss. Other times, it's just fun to read. I, on my own, compiled all of the lore in Demon Souls, Dark Souls, and Dark Souls 2, and put it all together into a comprehensive narrative. I think I posted it online a couple of times. Ah, but I may be getting off track. Moving on!

The next stairway down was shorter than the last one, and when we reached the bottom of the staircase, I waited until after Elizabeth had entered the room, and made certain that I kept myself right by her side. See, I was paying attention to that 'map' earlier, and I knew what was coming.

"Sweet zombie Cthulhu on a crutch, I love these things," I blurted out, unable to contain my enthusiasm. The room we had just entered contained a sliding block puzzle.

I freakin' love sliding block puzzles. I mean, seriously, I absolutely adore them. One of the first games I ever played was The Adventures Of Lolo on my dad's Nintendo Entertainment System, and I've loved games that involve moving blocks around ever since. I mean, they're not the only kind of puzzle that I enjoy, but they are right near the top of the list...

The room itself was square shaped, and looked much like the rest of the dungeon had, thus far: Gray stone blocks, almost sterile in their cleanliness, were visible, and unlike the previously room, and the staircases that we had descended, this room was lit be eight bright blue torches, four at the corners, and four at the midpoint of each wall. In addition, there was a massive blue crystal in the ceiling which caught the light and reflected it all about the room. The effect was a room that was as brightly lit as a sunny day. Unlike the previous room, I could have zipped about easily without having left Elizabeth alone in the dark.

Have I mentioned how sorry I am that I did that, sweetie? I'm really sorry about it. I just wasn't thinking. Aww, thanks, hun...

Anyways, moving on!

Liz turned towards me, seeming a little confused, and asked, "Love what things?"

I cleared my throat, reigned in my enthusiasm, and said, "What we have before us now, I believe, is a sliding block puzzle." Looking over at the door, clearly barred with a complex mechanism, on the other side of the room, then shining my beam of light on it to make sure she noticed it, I said, "It's a classic puzzle lock: The door won't open until we solve the puzzle."

"Why would someone set up something like that?" Confused, I looked over at the changeling, as she continued, stating, "Wouldn't it make more sense to use a lock and key?"

"Admittedly, you have a point," I said, then shone the light around the room. "But only if you wanted to make sure that no one ever came in here. If you only wanted someone who was 'worthy' to enter, though, then you would instead set up a series of tests that had to be overcome to reach the goal. If the builders of this place were creatures who prided themselves on strength, then we'd likely be made to fight monsters, or move heavy weights, or something like that. However, since the builders were likely descended from foxes..." I left it hanging, to see if the 'AI' would pick up the hint I gave her.

I was not disappointed: She immediately said, "Foxes are known to be nimble and clever. So... the tests will be about wits, about speed and agility?"

Pleased that she was able to work it out on her own, I said, "Precisely. The last wish of this wishing star was intended to go to the foxiest of foxes, someone who would be smart enough to use this wish wisely. Keys may be stolen, and locks might be picked. However, a door that can only be opened by the keenest of minds is certain to bar all save the one meant to come here."

"Right," Elizabeth said, seeming a a little worried. "But, um... these blocks look heavy. Too heavy for me to move, in fact, so, um..."

The blocks in question did, in fact, look heavy. Heavy as fuck, in fact. Each one seemed to be made of soild stone, and was a perfect cube as tall as Liz was standing on her back legs. They would obviously be too heavy for her to be expected to move, normally, but I noted that each one was marked by some sort of a button on each side. "Right. Try pressing that button on the side of the cube," I said, using the light to highlight one of the blocks. "While you do that, I'll go up and get a bird's eye view of the area."

"Alright," she said without hesitation. While she advanced on the block, I rose up, so that I could get a better look at the surroundings. As I expected, the room was divided into a seven by seven grid, with large floor tiles, each one the size of one of the puzzle blocks. The tiles in the middle of the grid, for a five by five area, were white. The tiles that surrounded that area were grey, and the tiles around that area were black. My suspicion was that the blocks would only move around the white area, but Liz would be able to go as far as the gray area, so she could manipulate the blocks from all sides, no matter where they went. It she stepped on the black...

I suspected that would be a reset flag, causing all the blocks to revert to their original position. That way, if someone were trying, and made a critical mistake (Such as, say, place four of the blocks in a square, rendering them impossible to move), there would be a way to undo that mistake.

I did note, however, that the tiles in each of the corners of the white area, and one in the middle, were glowing. Five blocks were scattered around the white tiled area. To me, the goal was obvious. I began plotting out the proper solution for the puzzle, and had an answer in seconds.

Calling down from above, I shouted, "Can you hear me!?"

Liz, almost to the block, winced, covering her ears, and said, "You didn't have to shout, I can hear... you..." Looking up, she asked, "How can I hear you so clearly when you're way up there?"

"Not sure. Maybe my words are being transmitted directly into your brain?" I was... surprised by that. This was the second time that the character in the game had commented about the weirdness of the game. The penny that we all know would eventually drop was scooting a little closer to the edge from which it would fall.

"That's... a little creepy," Elizabeth said, then after a moment added, "But I won't look a gift horse in the mouth. Just try not to shout again." Looking at the button, she asked, "What do you expect will happen when I press the button?"

Smart girl. In her position, I'd ask the same question. "I expect the block will move one space, or maybe from there until it reaches the end of the white tiles on the floor. Like I said before, wits and agility, not strength."

"White tiles?" I saw her look down and study the design of the floor. "Oh. Huh, why are those tiles... Oh! Oh, I get it! We're supposed to move these blocks to where they're over the glowing spots on the floor!" Eying the boundaries, she added, "But what are those gray and black tiles about?"

"I think that the grays are for how far you can move, so you can move a block, even if it is at the boundary of the white tiles. The black tiles, I suspect, mark a threshold: If you cross it, the puzzle will probably reset, and you'll have to start over. We can test that, if you like...?"

"I'd rather not, in case it does something... worse," she admitted, then said, "Alright, here goes. Let's see what happens." She pressed the button, and...

Okay, even I wasn't ready for what happened next. The block began shaking, and... it shot across the field so quickly that I was surprised that it didn't break the sound barrier. It was like seeing a startled cockroach run: There was no steady acceleration, no build up before it reached top speed, just an instant transition from still to maximum, and then back again.

"Celestia's rose-scented dung," Elizabeth whispered, her eyes wide in amazement.

"Holy shit," I whispered myself, my jaw dropping. Unlike most games, the attention to detail in this game gave me a more... visceral feeling for just how solid that block was, and how fast it was moving. Think about this for a moment: How heavy would a six by six by six cube of granite weigh? A couple tons, maybe? More? I don't know, I'd have to look it up. Obviously, more than an ordinary person could hope to move. But that thing had just taken off like it had been launched from a cannon.

If anyone or anything had been sitting between that block and its destination, then it would not simply have been hurt, it would have been destroyed. A living body, hit with that much mass, going that fast...

Yeah, it would practically liquify anyone unfortunate enough to be in the way. There wouldn't likely be enough left of them to send home to their mother in a jelly jar.

I reminded myself that this was just a puzzle game, rather than a fighting game or anything of that nature. I wasn't having an attack, thank goodness, but I recognized that I might have been in a position where an attack could occur, if I dwelt on the wrong things for too long.

I was interrupted from my contemplation, thankfully, when I heard something surprising.

"Shit."

My jaw dropped as I looked at Liz. She had a strangely... amused expression on her face. "Shit," she said again, seeming to like the sound of the word. "Shit, shit, shit. I like that. It has a certain... bite to it. What does it mean?"

A little confused, I admitted, "It's a less polite word for excrement."

"Oh, so it's like 'muck' or 'dung', she said, nodding. Apparently, I had just taught the game how to curse. So... there wasn't a profanity filter on this game? Alpha build, I reminded myself, then decided that might be something to test.

An imp of mischief came to my mind as I asked, "What curse words are used where you come from?"

As she began moving across the field, examining the positioning the blocks around her, she said, "Well, like I said, there's 'muck' and 'dung'. Those are pretty useful. Griffins, pegasai and other feathered species are fond of 'pluck', given how much getting a feather plucked out can hurt. 'Flock' is considered insulting in griffin culture as well: Griffins are adamant on how any instinct to come together in groups comes from their leonine heritage, not their avian. After all, eagles are solitary hunters."

"Makes sense," I commented, surprised and pleased. Like I said, I like lore, and it seemed that the world that Elizabeth came from was pretty complex. Maybe too complex...

A certain metaphorical penny was now hanging half way over the edge now. Look, I know it's taking me a while to make the conclusions you guys might have, but some of you are used to magic. I was, asides from my one cataclysmic experience, practically a virgin in these matters. You spend your whole life thinking you live in a rational world, thinking that this shit doesn't happen, but thinking that if it did, it would be pleasant. Then it happens, it turns out to be awful, but you're promised that it was as random as being struck by lightning. Think about the aftermath of being struck by lighting and surviving, though. Yes, you'll be scared of thunderstorms from then on. That's sane. That's rational. Anyone would behave that way. However, thunderstorms are big, obvious, hard to miss. The last thing you'd expect is that on a clear, sunny day, a lightning bolt to come politely knock on your door and ask to be invited in for tea. I may be a digger, but due to how... different this situation was from my last experience with magic, I wasn't able, or maybe just not willing, to put two and two together yet.

But that time would soon be coming...

"...and the nagas tend to use 'milk' to describe things they find disgusting. Reptiles aren't exactly used to that kind of stuff, even if they are willing to use it for cooking," Elizabeth continued, as she began moving blocks on her own. I was surprised by her initiative, and the fact that she was already using, without having been given any prompting, the very same strategy that I had considered myself. As she began maneuvering the blocks in the method necessary to get one sitting on the center tile, she asked, "What kind of words, asides from 'shit', do your people use for cursing?"

Well, she asked, so I answered, stating, "Well, there's 'damn', which means, primarily, to condemn, or to be condemned. There's various cultural overtones to that one, but let's not stray too far off topic. There's also 'ass', which is mostly used to denote the posterior, or just a generally unlikable person. There's also 'asshole', which I don't need to explain, I think, which is a more severe form of 'ass'. There's 'bitch', a word normally used to describe a female dog, but can be used to describe a mean, cruel, or otherwise unlikable woman. It can also be used to describe an individual who is in a position of servitude to you, or just someone inferior in all ways to yourself. There are... also words that are, crudely, associate with the genitals or with sexual intercourse in general, but, um... there's certain levels of decorum to be observed, and I'm not going to use those words in the company of a lady." I might, under some circumstances, use the word 'fuck' in the presence of a lady, but I try to avoid that when I can.

Elizabeth, visibly blushing as she succeeded in moving a block to the center tile, said, "Very considerate of you, thank you."

"You're welcome," I said, then added, "Good job on getting the block to the center, by the way."

With an adorable little giggle, Liz said, "Thanks! I knew that was going to be the hardest part, so I worked on that one first." She began moving the first of the other four blocks to the corners.

"Smart girl," I said, smiling. A thought occurred to me, and I asked, "Now, um, I've been wondering, what is it that you normally do, when you're not trapped in abandoned ruins, miles from civilization?"

"Nothing that interesting," Liz admitted as the first of the corner blocks slid into place. "I was... well, I'll be honest with you: I was a menial. I literally couldn't fight to save my life, so I did tasks that no one else wanted to do, or thought was 'beneath' them." Changing her voice to a gruff, rude-sounding tone, she said, "'Drone, clean up that mess,' 'Drone, fetch me a pitcher of water,' and sometimes 'Drone, drag that corpse away, it is starting to smell'. That one was a favorite of some of the less... discrete aristos." She shuddered, and said, "Sometimes... I had to make two or three trips for the same corpse. Other times... it wasn't quite a corpse yet, but close enough that nobuggy could do anything about it."

"Yikes," I said, a little shocked. "Not a life you'd want to go back to, I take it."

"If I had the choice between being locked in Tartarus or being back with the swarm," she said as the second block moved to the glowing tile, "I'd take Tartarus in a heartbeat, and even sing a musical number about how the the hordes of demonic fiends locked within were a thousand times superior to the company of even one changeling aristocrat." She paused, then sighed and said, "I'm being unfair. There's a few that don't fit that mold, I guess: Doc Green Bottle is a decent enough guy, I guess, and House Beetle has a lot going for it. A little too... militaristic for my tastes, but otherwise, they were good bugs. And... even if the current patriarch of House Roach is a bloated, pompous... what was that word you used? Asshole? Yes, definitely, well, his son is alright in my book: That apple fell a solid mile from the tree, and started running as far as it could. And... you'll never hear a word of complaint from me about the current queen's younger sister, either: Nice girl, even though she has every reason to be as bitter as I am, if not more so. But the overwhelming majority of our aristocracy is comprised of scum and worse than scum."

I voiced the first thought that came to mind, asking, "Why didn't you leave, then?"

"The same reasons nobuggy else leaves," she said as block three reached its destination. "One, the aristocracy hunts down and... punishes everybuggy who tries to leave, or even talks about leaving. Or talks about changing anything, ever. Two, the only place that a changeling has any sense of relative safety is with the swarm. We're not really welcome anyplace else, given our biological requirements. Outside the swarm, we're hunted down and... well, it's often as bad as what the aristos would do to us, I'm told. Although, it is the aristos doing the telling, so who knows? Three, hunting for love energy is hard to do if you don't know what you're doing, and beyond the aristocracy, nobuggy gets any training on how to be a proper infiltrator. The common changeling couldn't act his way out of a paper bag, unless he has a natural gift for it. Put all that together, and it makes a more or less perfect cage. Of course, maybe after Canterlot, things will change..."

"What happened at Canterlot?"

As the fourth block began shaking in preparation to move, she said, "Too much to put into words. Our leadership managed to bungle everything in ways that I'd have to invent new words to do it justice. Beyond that... I'd rather not talk about it." When the block reached its destination, a little tune played, and the door opened.

"Fair enough," I said, and let the subject drop. "Well, that's floor two cleared." Lowering the orb back to eye level, I stated, in an exaggeratedly formal tone, "Shall we be off, milady?"

I was rewarded with a blush from Elizabeth as she said, "Lead the way, good sir."

Chapter Five: Two Plus Two Equals...?

View Online

You want me to keep going a little longer? Alright.

My curiosity regarding the... complexity of this AI had reached its peak, by this point. Too many things were coming together in all the wrong ways. The penny we've been waiting to drop? It was waiting for one more tiny push. The funny thing is, though, that the push would be such a simple statement, one that anyone in her position might have made.

We're not quite there, just yet. But almost.

Moving on.

As we went down the stairs to the next floor, I asked, "If you could have any superpower in the world, what would it be?" A good question, I thought, to see just how advanced this game's AI really was. After all, while a computer might have all sorts of facts about the past of her world and whatnot, I figured that the real test would be whether she'd have an opinion about something almost completely random.

Elizabeth, surprisingly, giggled at that question, and said, "You obviously don't know much about changelings."

"What I know could probably fit inside a thimble," I admitted, "and still have room to spare." After a moment's thought, I added, "Where I'm from, 'changeling' is a word used for when a child is stolen, and replaced by a magical creature."

"Weird," she said, then after a moment, she continued, "Well, regarding your original question, changelings have a number of what other creatures would consider 'super powers': We can fly, shoot streams of sticky goo from our mouths, walk on walls, and we have a hard exoskeleton." She punctuated that last one with a solid thump to her chest. "Plus, commoners can burn love energy to boost out physical abilities, and aristocrats can use love energy to fuel magic spells."

"An impressive suite of abilities," I said, impressed. "Anything you'd want to add, though?"

"Not add," Liz said, a little sadly, "but maybe trade."

Now incredibly curious, I asked, "Trade?"

"I'd trade being a changeling for being an earth pony any day of the week."

Now incredibly confused, I asked, "An earth pony?" Let's be honest: Unless you've been to Equestria, there's no way you would know what that would be.

Clearing her throat as we reached the door to the next floor, she said, "An earth pony, yes. I mean, it may not seem as fantastic as a unicorn's ability to cast spells, or a pegasus' ability to fly or control the weather, but I honestly think that being able to plant seeds and make them grow, being able to make flowers bloom... to be able make your own food come out of the ground, that is a far better power than even all of the abilities of a changeling, a unicorn, and a pegasus combined."

She runs on love energy, I reminded myself, and she is almost out: She's on the verge of starving to death. Of course being able to make her own food would seem like heaven. But I didn't think she realized just how difficult that kind of work can be. My grandfather, on my father's side, was a farmer, before a random event and a few intelligent choices changed his life, and that of his son, forever. Everything I had heard from my father and grandfather about life before that lucky day had made it clear that farming was a lot of work, from sunrise to sunset every day, and it didn't always pay off: There were so many things that could go wrong with any crop that it boggled the mind that the human race hadn't starved centuries ago. Oddly enough, rather than telling her that, I was tempted instead to tell her that she didn't need to be some sort of 'Rock Horse' to make things grow: All she really needed was a seed, a cup of dirt, some water, a sunny place, and some patience. Of course, maybe the rules were different there. Maybe only 'Rock Horses' could make plants grow where she was from...

I was disturbed by my contemplation as she asked, "And you? Any powers you'd want?"

"Flight," I answered immediately, looking down at my left foot. Yeah. That one.

As she began looking at the room we had just entered, she noted, "Quick answer. I take it that you've given that one some thought?"

"Yes," I stated simply, as I studied the room myself. Taking in the environment, I was not all that surprised by what I saw: The symbol for this floor was a boot, after all. Lit like the last one was, the flooring of the room was almost all gray tiles, save for a line of glowing white tiles that cut through the middle of the room, making a path from the entrance to the exit. Looking over at the door, I noted that, rather than a single bar, three separate bars locked the exit. Shining a light on the door, I said, "This room looks to be a simple speed lock: When you step on each of the glowing tiles, it will probably change color temporarily, and some sort of timer will start. You'll have to light up all the tiles before the timer runs out to open the lock. Since there's three locks on the door, you'll have to do it three times in total." After a moment, I added, "The position of the white tiles will probably change each time you clear the course, so wait a few seconds for things to change afterwards."

Studying the room, Liz nodded and said, "Seems pretty straightforward." As she got into a sort of sprinter's stance, wiggling her backside back and forth (Yes, she even does that now when she's getting ready to dash off. No, you can't see it! Get your own waifu! She's mine! Ah, sorry, I... um... Moving on!) as she began preparing to run, she mentioned, "You seem to have a lot of experience with this sort of stuff."

"Some of this 'stuff'," I admitted, "is common in Dungeons and Dragons games, as well as a number of other games I've played. It's to the point where they're beginning to border on cliche."

"Well, while that's all well and good," Elizabeth said with a smile, "just don't start thinking that this is all a game." With that, she took off, zipping across the field with fairly surprising speed. I had forgotten that, while a human's top speed might be over twenty miles an hour, if they were in exceptional shape and a professional runner, a horse can go anywhere between thirty to fifty miles per hour, more than double that speed. As she cleared the first course effortlessly, she said, "This isn't 'Let's Pretend': If I end up getting hurt down here, it's for real."

Bam.

That was the moment. The penny dropped. The game itself had just said that this wasn't a game. The simplest thing she could have said ended up being the one thing that had the most profound effect on me. Clearing my throat, I said, "Elizabeth, I need to step away for a little bit. The... orb will still be here, but I won't be watching over you while I take care of something. I won't be going very far, and I should only be gone a few minutes."

Something must have shown in my tone, because, as tiles began flipping over, revealing the course to now be a circle around the room, Elizabeth asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Maybe," I admitted, struggling to control my voice as best I could. "I'm not sure. I... I need a little bit of time to clear my head. I won't be too long. Five minutes, maybe?"

"Alright," Liz said, as she took up another sprinter's stance and wiggled her rear again. "Hurry back, though: I'd... prefer not to be alone too long, if that's okay. I've had my fill of solitude over the last few weeks."

With a weak chuckle, I said, "Perfectly understandable. I'll be back directly."

I took off my headset, picked up my crutch, and walked out of the room, and went to pick up my cell phone, which I had charging in my bedroom. I selected a number I had on speed dial, and waited for the person I called to pick up.

Within two rings, 'Smith' picked up. He promptly said, in a friendly tone, "Hey, Hiro! How are you doing?" Caller ID is a wonderful thing, isn't it? After the conversation that he and I had about my... role in his previous case, he'd left me his phone number, and asked me to call him up the moment that I saw anything else magical happening. He also recommended that I call him once a week, so we could chew the fat for a bit. I think he knew what I was going to be going through, and that it might help if I had someone to talk to who understood. That, and we do tend to get along pretty well. Like I said, he's a great guy, all things considered.

"Not too good," I admitted, gulping, struggling to fend off the attack that I feared may be coming. "I think that it might be happening again," I said without preamble.

His tone immediately professional, he asked, "What makes you think that?"

I answered his question by asking, "How much do you know about changelings?"

"Which kind?"

"The kind," I said, not all that surprised that there might be more than one, "that go on four legs and look like someone mixed a bug and a pony together."

There was a moment of silence, followed by, "I, personally, don't know much, but I have a few experts on the subject that I can tap. Is this involving video games again? I thought that you decided not to get a new game console yet."

"My pc works just fine, and my LoL crew and I are still together, and still planning on going to a tourney in a few weeks" I answered, then added, "I received an 'alpha' for a game today that I think... might be something more. I did some research into it before I started it up, but I'm starting to wonder if the information I read had all been part of an elaborate setup. I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I think it might be something similar to last time." Giving a look towards my computer room, I added, "Similar, but different. Radically different. It... might take too long to explain over the phone. Can you come over?"

Smith was quiet for a moment again, then said, "I'm in the area, and two of our changeling experts happen to be in the same neighborhood, too. Give me a little time to get them together and snag one of our techs. Say... twenty, thirty minutes?"

With a chuckle, I asked, "Is the pizza free if it takes you longer?"

With a loud laugh, the agent said, "No, but if you feel like ordering a couple of pies, I'll split the total with you. I'll take mine with pepperoni and mushrooms. I'll see you shortly."

"Thanks," I said, and then, after he disconnected, I breathed out a long sigh. Strange as it may sound, speaking with the secret agent who specializes in the supernatural actually served to restore my sanity a little bit. Weird, right? It reminded me that, yes, in fact, this stuff really does happen to people, asides from myself. Besides, this was, like I said, similar but different from last time. I wasn't playing the role of 'Lord Death Of Murder Mountain', so in a way, that helped in keeping me from freaking out like I should have been.

Limping back to my computer room, I leaned my crutch up against the wall, then I picked up my cane for when Smith and his team arrived. Yeah, call it vanity, but while I'm alright with using a crutch to get around the house, if I have company, I prefer to use a cane. It makes me look a little more... dignified, don't you think? And you have to admit, I have a pretty sweet collection.

As I sat back down at my computer and put my headset on, I noticed that the door to the next chamber was unlocked and open, and Liz was sitting down, studying 'me' with an odd expression. I asked her, "What's wrong?"

She immediately asked, "Who were you talking to?" There wasn't an accusing tone, just a... worried one, I guess.

Geez. I hadn't realized that my headset was that sensitive. Maybe I was just that loud? Hard to say. Clearing my throat, I decided that it might be a good idea to be perfectly honest...
-------------------------------------------

I'll take over for a little bit, babe.

It took Hiro a few minutes to explain what was going on. He was unnecessarily apologetic about things, honestly. Let's be clear here: He did nothing to intentionally mislead me, and he really had no reason to think that what was happening was anything other than how it was originally presented to him. In fact, if anything, I was grateful: What we were doing now was preferable to sitting in an abandoned ruin with nothing to do but slowly go insane and contemplate whether or not I should feed myself to hungry monsters.

If I ever meet whoever was responsible for all of this, I will give him/her/them the biggest hug I have ever given anyone, ever.

Anyways, when he finished, about five minutes later, I summarized, stating, "So, you've spent the last hour thinking that you were playing a game while speaking with an incredibly well-crafted homunculus?"

Clearing his throat, the orb bobbed up and down and said, "Basically, yes."

Shrugging, I said, "Fair enough." Giving Hiro a warm smile, I added, "So, ready to move to the next floor?"

After a moment, he said, in a tone of disbelief, "You... still want to keep going?"

Giggling, I said, "This really hasn't changed anything important: We're still here, in this 'dungeon', as you've called it. At the bottom, there's supposed to be a wishing star, and that star is my only way of getting out of here alive. Someone, or something, led you to me, and while I'd normally be suspicious about their reasons for doing so, I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth just yet." With a sad little chuckle, I added, "And it isn't like I have anything better planned for the next five days. So, yeah, let's get going."

I have always prided myself on keeping a level head and a rational mindset. I do get angry about things, and there are individuals who I hate with a passion. However, being angry at Hiro, just because, up until this moment, he'd thought that he'd been playing a game, rather than guiding a flesh and blood individual, would be rather foolish. I admit, I was a little bit disappointed that, when he'd commented on my 'dressing sexy for him', he thought that he was talking to a game character, rather than a girl who was flesh and blood. However, he'd not said anything to retract that previous statement since then, so...

Hey, a compliment is a compliment, right?

Hiro's orb bobbed again, and he said, "Alright. But... after the next floor is cleared, we need to stop and take a break, until a visitor I'm expecting arrives. Besides, I'm... worried about the fifth floor. If that skull symbol means what I think it does, then we'll be facing a boss fight there."

Puzzled by the unusual term, I asked, "What do you mean when you say 'Boss Fight'?"

"In games," Hiro said, with an audible gulp, "a boss fight will show up occasionally: In combat based games, it's a monster significantly more powerful than the other ones that populate the area, and in puzzle games like... like this one was presented to me as, it's just a creature who uses the mechanics of the area as a means of attacking you, or may only be defeated by using those mechanics against him. Boss fights usually mark a milestone in the player's progress. Given the nature of the... 'game' so far, it will likely be a Puzzle Battle. Sliding blocks, fast footwork, and whatever is on the next floor will play a pivotal role in overcoming the trial. And... since it will be a boss battle, there will be an opponent there who might potentially be able to hurt or kill you. It will likely be a battle of wits... to the death."

Now that was... worrying. Gulping, I said, "Alright. As long as it isn't hoof to hoof combat, it shouldn't be completely hopeless."

"I'll be there with you, every step of the way," Hiro said, his tone surprisingly hopeful. "Between the two of us, we should be more than a match for whatever is waiting for us." With a small chuckle, he added, "And I have company coming shortly who should be able to help us out. If we put all of our heads together, we should be able to do this without any serious problems. Besides, in my experience, the first boss is always the easiest."

I certainly hope so, I thought to myself, nervously. Like I said, I wasn't brave, back then... and if I had known what was waiting for us on floor five, I would have scared out of my wits...

Easiest, right. 'Easy' can be such a relative term...

Chapter Six: Daruma-San Has Fallen Down

View Online

Keep going? Sure, why not? I know how much you love to hear me talk.

Alright, so, as we descended the steps to the next floor, Hiro hovering just a little over my left shoulder, I was understandably a little... thoughtful. Things were starting to get a great deal more worrying. At the time, there was so much happening at once that, if I really stopped to think, I'd be terrified.

Humans and ponies have this thing called a 'comfort zone', basically a state within which a person feels at ease, familiar, and in control, and experiences low anxiety. In such a state, a human or pony has to do relatively little to remain in that condition. You can 'coast' along like a youth on a scooter, just giving yourself a little push now and then to continue moving forward.

For me, you could say my life had always been in a 'discomfort zone'. My life was defined by stress: I was at the very bottom of changeling society, due to my inability to fight effectively. There's nowhere lower that you can go than menial labor in the changeling swarm. Do you know what happens to a changeling who does fall any lower than that? Guess. Yeah, that's exactly right. So, all it would take is one serious injury, and I could find myself 'extracted', what little love I had left given to somebuggy who could still manage to do something, and my paralyzed body would be left on the wayside for someone or something to pick up and use as a coat rack. Worse, I could always accidentally draw attention to myself, draw the spite of an aristo, and...

Well, let me tell you a story. The story of Deathwatch, the unluckiest changeling in the world.

Deathwatch, who, at five years of age, giggled at a joke his friend told him when an aristo had been walking by, and had tripped on a rock. Said aristo decided that the giggle was at him, picked Deathwatch up by the scruff of the neck, and hauled him off to the nearest corpse pile from the latest invasion. Poor tyke got assigned permanent 'Corpse Watching Duty', meaning he had to sit and stare at every pile of dead changelings that cropped up, to make sure that nobuggy was playing dead to try and escape. For hours at a time. Every single day. Convicted criminals don't get treated that badly in Equestria, and he was given a fate that many ponies would consider cruel and unusual, just for a badly timed laugh. Five years old, and every day, from waking to bedtime, staring at corpses. I saw him a few times, when I was dragged bodies to the latest piles: Poor kid looked little better than a corpse himself when he was eight. I'd have reached out to him, given him a kind word, but even then, three years later, the aristo had the boy watched all day, and anybuggy who even acknowledged his existence would be punished harshly. It wasn't a surprise that he vanished when he was twelve. What was surprising was that, it wasn't suicide: He just quit showing up for his duties one day. In spite of their best efforts, the aristos never found out where he went...

Of course, it might have helped that a certain young aristo ran away with him.

Ah, but we're getting a little ahead of ourselves. As I was saying, I'd lived my entire life in a 'discomfort zone', where any misstep could result in a fate worse than death. But you can get used to anything, even the threat of death and worse. Even when I'd ended up trapped in the palace, unable to escape, I was still in my 'zone': It was just that then, there were really only two ways things could be expected to end, and both were ugly.

Now? Well, things had been going well. Too well. Even with Hiro's warning of what might be on floor five, it still seemed that things were going better than they had any right to be. Asides from the latest revelation, and the weirdness of the past hour, things were looking up. And that freaked me out a little...

Okay, maybe it freaked me out a lot. Maybe that's why I took Hiro's little revelation so well: Up until that point, I had half-expected that he was leading me into a trap where a hungry monster was going to crack open my head and eat my brains. The fact that he had told me that he had been misled was... strangely reassuring. Maybe there still would be a trap, and maybe this would all end with me being led to a hungry brain-eating abomination using my braincase as his cereal bow. But if so? At least Hiro wasn't intentionally leading me to it.

Compared to my everyday life? This was... practically what you humans call Christmas.

The fact that, until now, Hiro thought I was just a 'game'? Honestly, compared to the whole 'wind up as changeling brains soup' phobia, how high would you rate 'He thought it was just a game', in the grand scheme of things? At least he had, even when he thought it was just a game, treated me well, and had done his level best to ensure we got through each floor with a minimum of fuss. I've played with a few gamers since coming here, and not everyone would be as nice as Hiro had been. There's a lot of jerks out there, and if some of the jerks I've encountered on XBox Live been in Hiro's place, they'd have treated me dreadfully, and finding out I was real would have made their behavior worse, not better...

Ah, we've gone a little far afield. Anyways, that was where my mind was at as we descended the steps to the next 'test'. Hiro's theorem, that this was all a complex set of tests to determine worth, had panned out so far. What we hadn't realized, just yet, that these weren't the real tests. These were lessons. The first real test would be coming on the fifth floor. However, this next lesson would be the trickiest one yet.

Wanna take over for a little bit, hun? You're better at describing the rooms than I am.
-------------------------------------

Alright, sure.

Um, before we get to the room itself, I have to say... I was kinda freaking out. Not freaking out because magic was happening again, though. I know some of you were expecting me to start tearing my hair out and screaming when I figured out what was going on, and if this had been another violent game, I almost certainly would have been. However, since, thus far, the game had proven to be a puzzle game, and no one had gotten hurt, I was... distressed, I guess, but not as upset as I should have been. In fact, I was stable enough that I could use a smartphone app to order pizzas while using one hand to guide the orb around. So, what had me 'freaking out', if it wasn't magic?

What I was freaking out about was the fact that Elizabeth 'wasn't' visibly freaking out.

Weird, right? It's just... she took everything in stride so well that it seemed unnatural. Every bit of weirdness she'd experienced so far was rolling off of her like water off a duck's back. Yeah, I mean, compared to some of the things she's said she's gone through in her regular life, all of this seems like small potatoes, but I wasn't yet fully aware of just how thoroughly messed up her life was before we met. I mean, her reactions would have been considered strange when I thought it was a game. Now?

Not even after the whole 'dress like a maid and be my servant for a month' thing had seemed to bother her. I knew at least one of my ex-girlfriends would have had put my ass in a sling, and would have likely have also thrown a rather... important part of my anatomy into a blender for good measure, if I'd tried to pull that stunt with her. But not only had Liz gone along with it, she'd seemed flattered by the attention!

So, what was going on here? She was walking along, humming a jolly-sounding tune (Yes, you must certainly were, I heard you!), as if she was practically on a vacation.

In a way, I was grateful for the distraction: Trying to puzzle out Elizabeth's behavior was helping to keep me from focusing on the fact that this was all happening again, that magic was once again intruding upon my sanctuary. I was keeping myself together remarkably well, all things considered. I think... I think that the fact that Liz was there with me, and was relying on me to get her through this, helped keep me from having an attack.

As we reached the doorway to the next floor, my mind was flooded with questions, all of which I was, honestly, too scared to ask. It would be a little while before I worked up the nerve to pick Liz's brain for more information about her past...

The room revealed, when Liz opened the door, was... interesting.

The room was much longer than the last one: Directly in front of us was a white tile. Beyond that, in a line straight ahead of us, was a path of gray tiles a good ten tiles long (Sixty feet, since each tile was about six feet by six feet, by my reckoning). At the end was a second white tile, and beyond that, on a pedestal, was a statue, a bust that had grinning fox's face with blue gemstones for eyes. Other than the path, and the area beyond the second white tile, every tile in the room was black.

"So, what do you think?"

Liz's question startled me out of my reverie, and I immediately answered, saying, "Daruma-San Has Fallen Down."

Clearly confused, she asked, "What?"

"Ah, sorry, I suppose you've never heard it called by that name," I said, a little embarrassed. My mother had been the one to teach me this particular game, so I knew it by that name, rather than the more traditional 'western' name. "It's a game that also goes by the name 'Red Light, Green Light."

"Again," Liz asked, still confused, "what?"

I'd not quite come to terms with just how different a 'bug's' life was from that of a human, so it took me a moment to realize that she was serious. Clearing my throat, I said, "It is a somewhat common game, back where I come from, often played by children. The game will start when you step on the first white tile. I expect that the statue's head will turn around once you do so. The statue will likely turn back to face you every few seconds. The goal is to get from here to the other white tile without getting caught in motion: When the statue is facing you, you cannot move, or you'll have to go back to the start and try again."

"Seems straightforward," Liz noted, then asked, "So why do you seem nervous?"

"There's a... story I read recently," I admitted, after a moment, "Kami-sama No Iu Toori, that started with an event themed like this. A group of students, without warning or explanation, were suddenly plunged into a very deadly game, played with a talking Daruma doll. Moving while the Daruma doll was watching was instantaneous, violent death, and the doll was intelligent, changing the pace at which it would recite a chant it had to say before turning back around." Gulping, I added, "It ended in a bloodbath, with only one survivor in the class."

"Yikes," Elizabeth said, sounding a little shocked, "Your people have some seriously freaky stories."

Chuckling, I said, "Tell me about it." More seriously, I added, "So, before you start this game, we need to check and see what actually happens if you fail to overcome a trial." Call it paranoia, but things had been going a little too well in my opinion as well...

Confused, Liz asked, "How?"

"Simple," I said, confidently, "You start the game by touching the tile, and I'll move forward and trigger the trap: If it does something like shoot laser beams from its eyes, it might damage the orb, but it won't hurt me or you."

Looking more than a little worried, Liz commented, "It isn't a bad plan, I guess, but I'd rather not risk losing you now: I don't know if I could handle doing this all on my own."

"This orb seems pretty solid," I said, "and if this is a game of life or death, you deserve to know before you start playing. Besides, it isn't like I'm actually risking my life here. This is your story. Your path." With a half-smile, I added, "If I could walk it for you, I would. I can't, though. You're the only one who can. The most I can do for you is make sure that the path ahead is safe."

Taking a deep breath, Liz said, "Alright." Tapping the white tile with her hoof, she said, "Go for it."

At the opposite end of the room, the exit door opened. The statue's head turned around, and a voice seeming to come from everywhere at once, shouted, "Hajime no ippo!" Taking the first step. Strange. It seemed that the foxes who had lived here had once spoken Japanese, or something like it. Well, foxes did play a pretty major role in Japanese mythology. Maybe there was a reason for that? Magic was once common on earth, I was told, until it left for greener pastures. Maybe some of the kitsune of legend and song had lived here afterwards?

(What really startled me was the fact that the voice sounded almost exactly like Norio Wakamoto. What, never heard of him? He's like Japan's version of Morgan Freeman. He has a voice that drips so much gravitas that he's done the voice acting of kings, emperors, supervillains, gods... and some very seriously ridiculous stuff as well, including the time he voiced a vacuum cleaner. Yeah, I'll show you a clip of it, later. Anyways, moving on!)

The statue's head, as expected, turned around, and I began moving the orb forward. As I did, the voice began to recite, slowly, "Da-ru-ma-san..." Remarkable: It was doing the traditional chant for the game and everything. Curiouser and curiouser...

Suddenly, it changed the pace, shouting quickly, "Ga koronda!" The fox caught me in motion, and its gemstone eyes turned bright red. I flinched, startled at the sudden change. The statue's mouth opened, almost impossibly wide, and...

...started laughing at me. Big, booming guffaws of laughter. Fox statue Norio Wakamoto was laughing at my failure to complete the course. While my orb was undamaged, my pride had taken a critical hit.

The exit door slammed shut, and behind me, I heard Liz exhale, letting out a breath I hadn't realized that she was holding. I was surprised to find myself doing the same.

"Well," I said with a chuckle, "now we know." Looking down at my cell, I noted the time, and said, "I'll move my orb to the other end of the room, and then you can start the game. Just go slowly, and be ready to stop at any time. And be ready: This thing changes the pace at a moment's notice. While you work on this, I need to get ready to receive company. I'll be stepping away again for a bit. I'll be back to check on you as soon as I can."

With a salute, and a surprisingly cheerful tone, Elizabeth said, "I'm on it, chief!"

Chapter Seven: The First Expert Arrives

View Online

You don't mind if I keep going? Okay, sure.

Picking up my cane, I began working my way towards the front door of my home. Yeah, it is a pretty big place for one person to have been living here, especially someone with my setbacks. When my parents passed on, everything that they had passed on to me, including their home. I'd considered living elsewhere, but after some thought, I decided to stay, viewing it as an opportunity to keep in shape. After all, it would be so easy to let things atrophy...

Anyhow, it took me a little bit of time to reach the front door. Agent Smith had said thirty minutes, tops, and it had already taken twenty minutes to get to this point, so I figured he'd be arriving with his associates shortly. It seems I had timed things exactly right, because the moment I reached the front door, there was a rather polite knock at the door.

That didn't sound like Smith: Too quiet, too polite, and the knock came from much lower on the door than it would be for someone his size. I was almost certain that it was a girl-scout, honestly. I opened the door, and I was half-right: It was a girl, and a rather... small one.

I estimated her age to be somewhere between nineteen and twenty-five. She was a little less than five feet tall (Less than 152 centimeters, for those of you who prefer metrics), with brown hail tied back in a bun, and big brown eyes, magnified by a pair of coke bottle glasses. Her face was covered with freckles, and she dressed in a manner that could only be called 'nondescript': Brown was the main theme, covering a modest figure. She looked almost ridiculously ordinary, honestly. Overall, the effect was that of a mouse wearing glasses. Admittedly, it was a cute mouse, but she wasn't really my type. The fact that she was clutching a laptop against her chest proclaimed her identity louder than words. This had to be Smith's 'tech-expert'.

Clearing my throat, I asked, "Can I help you?" Better to play dumb, just in case: Smith would be peeved if it turned out I was wrong. You guys understand how it goes, right? The first rule of Magic Club is: You do not talk about Magic Club.

Looking me up and down, she immediately made an assumption. "I'm sorry," she said, meekly, "I think I have the wrong address. Do you know where Hiro Ecks lives?"

"You're looking at him," I said with a chuckle.

Looking me up and down with an expression that practically screamed, "Are you sure?" she examined me more closely. I couldn't blame her, really: When folks hear that I'm half-Japanese, a gamer, and physically handicapped, they form certain expectations of how I should look. They expect someone who would be shorter, and skinnier, for one thing: People often forget that Japan is the home of sumo wrestling, and my uncle, on my mother's side, was heavily into the sport. In addition to that, while my mother herself might have been petite, in high school and college my father was a linebacker. He could have gone pro, but decided to go into the family business instead. End result? I'm six foot eight and a little over two hundred fifty pounds. I'm not the most muscular guy in the world, but I keep in decent shape: After what happened to my foot, I got in the habit of doing physical therapy exercises. It would have been far too easy for me to fall into a deep funk, spend all day in a chair, and eventually atrophy to the point that I need a wheelchair to move around. When I got out of the hospital, though, I decided 'Fuck that shit', and made sure that my morning routine always included at least a half hour of exercise. There's plenty of reasons to be wheelchair-bound: Being too lazy should not be one of them. I did, however, inherit from my mother's side of the family vaguely aristocratic-looking features and straight black hair. Beyond that, not much else. Folks have often commented on whether or not it was even physically possible for someone my size to have come out of my mother, but I was a late-bloomer: I didn't start getting really big until after I turned sixteen.

Aren't preconceptions funny? People forget that gamers these days come from all walks of life, and are all ages, from six to sixty. I'm not kidding about that last part: When I bought Fallout 3, I met an elderly man who was buying the same game. I asked him if he was getting it for his grandkids. His response? "Screw my grandkids, they can get their parents to buy them a copy. This one's mine!"

You never know who you might be playing against, these days. I once played a round of CoD Modern Warfare against a team composing of a sixteen year old, his father, and his grandmother... and granny ended up having the best kill versus death ratio at the end of the match.

Anyways, sorry I went off on a tangent. Moving on!

Smiling, I asked, "Not what you expected?"

Blushing, the young lady replied, "Not really." Looking at my pajamas, and my bunny slippers, she observed, "You're dressed a little casually..."

I thumped my cane on the floor (I can keep my balance on my good foot quite well, thank you) and said, "Changing clothes is a bit of a hassle for me, there really hasn't been time. Besides, everything is covered properly, as is." Smiling, I added, "So, where are the others?"

Blushing, she admitted, "I'm a little closer, but I live in the opposite direction from where Agent... Smith is coming from, so I drove here on my own. He'll be here shortly with the others." Extending her hand, and struggling to keep her laptop up with one arm, she added, "Agent Mouse, at your service. Magi-tech specialist."

Agents don't use their real names in the field: There's too many ways that one's 'True Name' can be used against them. Thankfully, the name actually has to have been spoken within a brief time period for that kind of magic to work, otherwise all it would take for the fair folk to conquer the world is access to birth records. Still, it is an interesting security precaution. Amusingly enough, after meeting me, Smith decided to change his code name. He used to be Agent Orange. I've heard that a lot of agents go by code names that have some sort of a joke in them. Mouse's was apparently a comment both on her expertise with technology and her somewhat mouse-ish appearance. I idly wondered if she had chosen that one, or it had had been chosen for her.

Taking her hand and giving it a small shake, I said, "A pleasure. I'll... lead you to the computer in question. I'll explain as we go."
--------------------------------------

My turn? Okay.

By this point, I was beginning to hate Daruma-san. Seriously. Have you ever tried to cross a distance of sixty feet while playing 'Red Light, Green Light'? It is not as easy as it looks. So far, I'd failed fifteen times, and while I was getting closer each time, Daruma-san was getting trickier. As Hiro had warned, he changed the rhythm every time, making predicting his turning around difficult. However, I did notice that his overall strategy changed with each tile I succeeded in crossing. On the last three attempts, he got me by blasting through the entire chant at high speed and spinning right back around. The thing that truly irked me was that each time, I reached the final tile. Don't you hate when that happens? It's like losing to the final boss in an old school video game and having to start over again.

After the latest failure, after the fox statue's laughter once again damaged my self-esteem, I heard a quiet conversation coming from the orb. My ears perking up, I listened in.

The first voice was definitely Hiro's. "So, yeah, I was sent an alpha build a few hours ago. I'd checked out the company that was supposed to have sent it. They seemed legit, but..."

Another voice, nerdy (Yes, I know a nerd when I hear one) and yet definitely feminine, said, "It could have been a dummy site, set up for the sole purpose of deceiving you. Or perhaps an enchantment was placed on your computer, so that when you tried to access their website or you sent them an email, a projection of what they wanted you to see was automatically displayed on your screen. I can do a few tests, and find out which."

Hiro's response was hesitant as he admitted, "While that might be good to know, what I really need to know more about is the 'game' itself. I'm pretty much positive it opened a window to another world on my computer. I... think it might be better to show you, than explain it."

"Fair enough," the nerdy girl said, then added, "But, um, I don't know how much help I'll be. My expertise is on interactions between magic and currently existing technology. I mean, if you wanted me to cut the connection...?"

The split second of terror I felt at that casual statement was profound. Cut off the connection? That would leave me stranded, alone...

Hiro's response was immediate, and left no room for argument. "Absolutely not!" There was a pause, then he added, "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. It's just... it'll be hard to explain. I'll show you, and then you'll understand."

There was a pause, then Hiro's voice, much clearer, asked, "How's it going, Liz?"

Giving a frown at the orb, I admitted, "Not as good as I'd hoped. I keep getting caught at the last tile. Any advice?"

He hmmm'ed, then said, "Well, this thing is more or less a kind of robot or other automated system. Has it changed its strategy every time you cross a tile?"

Nodding, I admitted, "Yes. It gets faster when it decides to speed the chant up, and the last few times, it has caught me by turning, saying the entire chant very quickly, then turning right back around. It's... too fast for me to stop myself."

"Then try not moving." That was from the female voice.

Curious, I asked, "And that would be...?"

"Ah, sorry, I forgot how sensitive this mic can be," Hiro said, seeming to be talking to the other person. "That was Agent Mouse. She's an... expert of sorts in the kind of connection that's going on between you and I."

Deciding to have a little fun with Hiro, I said, "Oh, well, if you were having trouble with that, you should have told me. I'm not one for playing hard-to-get, stud. It's not complicated: All you really need is a bottle of wine, a dozen long-stemmed roses, some candles, and maybe a little romantic poetry, and I'm all yours."

There was a moment of what I assumed was stunned silence, followed by the sound of Hiro laughing. I'm fairly certain I heard the girl titter a little as well. After a few seconds, Hiro said, "Thanks, Liz. I needed that... and I'll keep that in mind for later." I blushed a little bit at that, before Hiro continued, "But, back to the topic at hand. I think Mouse had the right idea: The statue may be able to change things up, but I don't believe it can truly think. It has to have, if not a preset pattern, then a limited number of variations on the way it will say the chant. If you sit still and wait patiently on the last tile, you should be able to work it out, and learn when to move, and when to just sit and wait. These... games were meant to be solved, I think. Its just a matter of figuring out the solution."

Nodding, I said, "Right. Makes sense. I'll try that. Thanks." Moving back to the starting tile, I prepared to start again.

I heard a ringing sound, what I later learned was a doorbell, and Hiro said, "That's probably the others. Liz, I need to take off again. I'll leave you here with Miss Mouse for a little bit." I thought I heard a whispered objection from Mouse. After a moment, I heard Hiro whisper, "Just keep her company for a bit. She's been alone for a while now, and we're the first people she's been able to talk in weeks. I won't be long."

A Buggy Game

by Bucking Nonsense

Prologue: Insert Coin

Chapter One: Press Start To Play

Chapter Two: Forming A Party

Chapter Three: Dungeoneering Lore

Chapter Four: Fun With Blocks

Chapter Five: Two Plus Two Equals...?

Chapter Six: Daruma-San Has Fallen Down

Chapter Seven: The First Expert Arrives