Hands on me. Gripping. Grasping. Pulling.

“Stop!” I commanded, except there was no voice.

“Get that off him,” a voice near my head.

The hand grasped my gauntlet and pulled, twisted, and yanked. “Won’t come off.”

I was on the ground. Dirty ground. A stone wall to one side. A banded door to the other. Husky creatures removed my things. Big green faces with ugly lips and uglier teeth/tusks.

“I..” I started to say.

A huge fist came around, aimed right at my face, and it was lights out, Sally.

----------------------------------------

Dim light. A pounding headache. Swollen face. Arched back. Cold stone floor.

All of these feelings came at me one after another.

I awoke with a start, my head throbbing like I'd gone ten rounds with a troll. The world spun lazily around me as I tried to focus on my surroundings. Cold stone pressed against my bare skin, and I realized with a jolt that I was stripped down to my underwear. What the hell had happened?

Groaning, I pushed myself up onto my elbows, fighting the wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm me. The cell - because that's definitely what this was - swam in and out of focus. Bare stone walls, a heavy iron door, and a pathetic excuse for a bed made of straw in the corner. Great. Just great.

"Hello?" I called out, wincing at the sound of my own voice bouncing off the walls. No answer. Of course not. That would be too easy.

With monumental effort, I dragged myself to my feet, swaying like a drunk. My muscles screamed in protest, every inch of my body aching as if I'd been tossed off a cliff. Twice.

I collapsed onto the straw, grateful for even this meager comfort. The room continued its merry-go-round impression, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the dizziness to pass. Where were the others? Darby, Leech, Trogs - had they suffered the same fate?

"Is anyone…" I trailed off, realizing my voice was barely audible.

As I lay there, trying to piece together what had happened, a sudden realization hit me. My weapons were gone, my armor stripped away, but there was one thing they hadn't managed to take. I flexed my fingers, glad they hadn't been able to remove my glove.

A spark of hope flickered. They hadn't been able to remove them. Before I could explore that glimmer of hope, exhaustion claimed me, and I slipped back into unconsciousness.

----------------------------------------

Someone smacked my cheek.

"Stop." I brushed them away.

"Hey, pal."

"Fuck off."

Sleep is good. The great equalizer. World got you down? Sleep makes it all better. Depressed? Yeah, sleep it away, just to wake up feeling worse. Wait-

"Bub. Hey, fuck face. Waaaake up."

"Huh?" I sat up suddenly and sent Stretch Bangstrom flying. He hit the ground and rolled over, and his plastic head and sardonic eyes met mine.

"'Bout time. Thought you were dead at first."

"What?"

"I said," Stretch slowed his words. "I. Thought. You. Were. Dead. At. First. They must have hit you too hard. At any rate. Welcome to jail. Prison. The big house. It sucks here. They got guards, guard dogs, gnarly flying things that I just call flying assholes, uh, what else… Oh. Did I mention we're in a jail?"

"Jail. Got it." I got it alright. This was just like the first day I'd awoken here, tossed into a tutorial level by the postie masquerading as an all-powerful quantum AI. Now that very same jerk had dumped me here.

I sat up and swiftly took stock of my predicament, my eyes darting around the dingy cell as I patted myself down. The only thing covering my body was a coarse linen shirt that hung awkwardly to my knees, its fabric scratching against my skin with every movement. My feet were bare, toes curling against the cold stone floor. Gone was my trusty temporal tote, along with all my hard-earned gear. No weapons to defend myself, no armor to protect me, not even a pair of underwear to preserve my dignity. Just this ridiculous, itchy excuse for clothing.

I sniffed cautiously, immediately regretting the decision as the pungent stench of stale sweat assaulted my nostrils. The odor clung to the fabric, and I had a sinking feeling it wasn't my own. Great, not only was I stripped of everything useful, but I was also forced to wear someone else's rank hand-me-downs. This day just kept getting better and better.

"Yeah. As far as jails go, it ain't bad. I've been in worse."

I couldn't help but laugh. "You have, huh?"

"Yeah, pal. I was locked up in a cardboard box for a long time, in case you forgot that salient point."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

That was his claim, but I had doubts. Stretch had been created between the time humanity went from advanced cybernetics to uploading into computers and living their best cloud life. EchoAnilTrine had called him a gateway device, which was an experimental creation. I suspected most of his memories had been implanted.

He could be a pain in the ass, but he'd literally had my back since we had arrived here, and in a way, I trusted him with my life. There were friends, and then there was this frigging guy.

"What happened to you?"

"I'm small. I can get around the prison. I know the guard routes…"

"No. I meant after the Nexus crashed."

"Oh. That's an epic tale."

Stretch launched into his tale, his tiny plastic arms gesturing wildly.

"So check it, Liam. After that whole Nexus crash situation, me and Cindi, we were like, 'We gotta bounce.' So we found a big hole and start crawling down the side of that big-ass building, right? And Cindi's got these big wicked claws, so she's just scaling that thing like it's nothing. You know how that looks."

"Big. Got it."

"I come up to your knees. Everything's big. Sheesh, man.

"We hit the ground and start walking. For days, palomino. Just walking and walking. And then, boom! We stumble into this village called Brackenfall. Real quaint joint, you know? But here's the kicker - they weren't too keen on a talking toy and a fire-breathing crab thing. Can you believe that shit? So they start chasing us with pitchforks and torches, like some old-school monster movie. I mean, maybe not exactly pitchforks and torches, but at least one had something in hand that was on fire, pretty sure. Yeah.

"So we're running, right? And Cindi's spitting fire behind us, which probably didn't help our case. But we make it out, and we keep moving. We're wandering for a while, and then we see this fancy-schmancy place in the distance. Turns out, it's Luminaris Reach. Sounds fancy, right?

"It does, and I'm familiar."

"Yeah. Buncha uptight high elves livin' it up over there. Now, before we can even get a good look at the place, these guys in shiny armor pop up out of nowhere. I'm talking some serious 'beam me up, Scotty' stuff. Next thing I know, poof! We're in this jail. And let me tell you, the accommodations? Not great.

"Did I mention there is some ominous as fuck darkness coming this way?

"I saw it."

"Scary, right? Here's the worst part. I lost track of Cindi in all the chaos. I look for her every day, but this place is like a maze, you know? I just hope she's okay out there. She's tough, but she's probably missing her ol' pal Stretch something fierce."

Stretch's voice trailed off, and I could see a hint of worry in his usually sardonic eyes.

"I'm here, now. Everything's going to be alright." I assured Stretch.

"Oh, what are you going to do? Wish us out of here?"

I smiled because there was one thing the jailers hadn't been able to remove, and that was a slim, burnished gauntlet that was practically glued to my hand. I didn't even know how to get the damn thing off. It had been given to me by Captain Al and had already come in useful.

"How long have I been here?" I asked.

"Don't know, pal. There's no daylight down here, and I don't really need sleep. So I get out and wander."

"How do you get out exactly?"

He pointed at the imposing door, then down at the floor underneath. There was a gap of a few inches. When we had been racing away from an active volcano, Stretch had come in handy by sliding under a door and unlocking it so we could get inside and activate a veilstone. Leech and I had tried everything before his stunt but had been unable to break down the door.

"That reminds me. I gotta go, pal. They'll be making rounds soon."

"Uh. Okay. It's good to see you," I said as I stood on unsteady legs.

"You too, buddy boy. Glad to see you're still alive and ticking."

"When you get a chance, come back, and we'll get out of here."

"You think it's that simple? The doors are double locked and only opens with a key. A really big and complicated key. The guards are big dudes with big curved swords. Pal, I'm talking big. I know you think you're tough, but you ain't gonna do much damage with your fists."

"Do they let us out? Do they come in the rooms?" I asked Stretch.

"No, pal. They just keep ya locked away. Food twice a day. Not that I eat much. But they bring around some gruel. There's this guy named Falix. He said he's been here for a while, and the food is just enough to keep you alive. Same with the water."

"Falix. Got it," I said.

"You seem awful cocky for a guy stuck in a prison from which there is no escape."

"I got this, pal," I mimicked Stretch's voice. "But it would be easier if you'd find out how close we are to the next day. Is it morning or evening? I need something."

"I'll see if Falix can figure it out. He knows a lot of stuff."

"When can you come back?"

"Gimme a few hours. Gotta put on a show for the guards. They like to look in. I think they know I get out, but they can't do much. The shock thing don't work on me."

"Shock thing?"

Stretch's plastic eyes widened, his tiny body tensing at the sound of metal scraping on stone.

"Gotta scram, pal," he whispered urgently.

"Wait," I said, "don't forget about the time. I need to know if it's morning or evening."

Stretch nodded quickly before slipping under the door, vanishing from sight. I was alone again, left to contemplate my predicament in the dank cell.

A few minutes passed before I heard heavy footsteps approaching. The sound of metal scraping against metal grated on my ears as a small window in the door slid open. A pair of beady eyes peered in, set in a face that could only be described as orc-ish. The creature's skin was a sickly green, its nose bulbous and misshapen.

"Listen up, meat," the guard growled, his voice like gravel in a blender. "You behave, we get along fine. You act stupid, you suffer. Simple enough for your puny brain?"

I couldn't help myself. Maybe it was the residual concussion or just my natural inclination towards smartassery, but I smirked. "Crystal clear, chief. I'll be on my best behavior. Do you know when the porter will be by with my change of clothes?"

The guard's eyes narrowed, and I saw a flicker of something dangerous in them. "You think you're funny, huh?"

"To some."

Before I could react, the guard looked to the side. Something clicked as the guard triggered a device. Suddenly, the air in the cell seemed to crackle with energy. A wave of what felt like pure electricity surged through the room, slamming into me with the force of a goddamn train.

My body convulsed, muscles seizing as the current ripped through me. I toppled backward, my head cracking against the stone floor. The shock was so intense that my stomach rebelled, and I found myself retching, the meager contents of my stomach splattering onto the floor.

As the current subsided, I lay there, twitching uncontrollably, the acrid smell of vomit filling my nostrils. Through the haze of pain, I heard the guard's guttural laughter.

I'd once touched an exposed wire and received 120 volts of electric shock. It had been one of the worst feelings of my young life. This was like that pain but multiplied by a hundred.

"My name Lord Swan. Say it."

"Uh. It."

The pain ripped through my body again.

"Lord Swan! Sorry!"

"Still feel cocky now?"

"No, Lord Swam," I said through gritted teeth.

He sneered before slamming the window shut.

"Thought so."

The guard hit the button again but didn't let go for a while. After I stopped screaming, I realized something was missing from my life. My HUD. It was completely gone.

Maybe I'd been too cocky after all.