Recoil thudded through me, nearly sending me staggering with the pulse. But it was over before it had registered, a small cloud of displaced particles the first difference I noticed as the node snapped back into its original setting. It took a second for my mind to catch up with my body, the recoil fading in a series of rapid stutters tingling across my skin.

I blinked through the light dust from the rock, my partner in travel. By contrast, the room I’d emerged into was spotless. A new circle identical to the one I’d started on glowed placidly under my feet, its controls active and accessible.

I stepped off, letting the sensations fade, and looked around.

The network had sent me through to a dim narrow chamber filled with glittering colours. Rich panelled floor cast up polished reflections of the station’s multicoloured glow from cracks between irregular flat panels on the walls. Their patterns traced vertical rivers down the walls, just bright enough to see by, each short segment cycling through different subtle shades. Smaller, brighter lights shone at irregular intervals between them, fluctuating slowly in and out.

The light carvings reached far above my head, though I couldn’t see where they ended. The ceiling was hidden by draped cloth weighted with angular metallic ornaments. Lower down at my level, equally angular benches faced me in dark metal, inset with iridescent shards and garnished with occasional curled flourishes. An arched exit led out.

It was as wondrous as the vista I’d come from, in its own way. The first room I’d ever been inside. Was everything in the world this beautiful? I didn’t know.

A sharp thud sounded behind me followed by several small metal clinks, and I jumpily whirled to find a man crouched under a jutting platform. The latter was covered in more metal ornaments and lights. The former wore thick, bulky robes hiding the frame of their occupant, though his face was pale and his cheeks round. He rubbed at his head with one hand, the other propping himself up from the floor, a thin trickle of blood seeping down his forehead. But his eyes were on me, and wary.

While not openly antagonistic, it wasn’t a the expression of someone with friendly intentions, either. I took a step backwards, providing some space. Apparently I had some instincts for these things. “Sorry.” I glanced back at the arched opening. There was no door on it, but maybe not all stations were public. “I’m leaving.” I took a cautious step back towards the exit. When he failed to respond, I took another.

Lie low, Orange had said. Easier said than done when you had no idea what to expect.

I’d almost made it to the door when the man finally called after me, having crawled out from under the shelf. His voice was low, his words smooth – and completely unintelligible.

I gave him a helpless look and raised my palms in a shrug. “I don’t speak your language. Sorry.”

He tried again, sharper this time, and gestured at me.

“I still don’t understand.” I wanted to. My task became infinitely harder without it.

The man pointed again, then tugged at his robes where they folded across his chest. Like the room and the stations, his outfit was woven in multicoloured, iridescent panels. Iridescence even gleamed from the strands of his hair. It seemed to be a theme.

I made a show of touching the front of my tunic with a frown. “My clothes? Is there something wrong with them?”

Rather than answering, he shifted back uncertainly on his feet. His voice raised in a question.

“I don’t know,” I said again. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for surprising you.”

When he didn’t move, I turned and stepped out the door.

The world opened up into a wider settlement, dimly-lit compared to my view from the grove cliffs. It was hard to tell how big it was. The entrance to the network station was at the bottom of a tall canyon, with rough grey stone towering upwards on all sides in jagged walls. More grey rock worn smooth with continual use rested below my feet. Structures and walkways were embedded vertically in the cliffs, draped with long, colourful fabrics, accompanied by more of the glowing iridescent embellishments carved in angular, intricate cracks in the stone. Far, far above, past many tiers of structure, I could see the light of the blue and yellow suns through the chasm. Little enough reached the bottom that they provided only a dim, second-hand illumination.

The suns were weak and distant, even with four of them working together.

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There were people in the settlement. Quite a few. I couldn’t assume any of them would speak my language, and none of them were dressed like me. They weren’t as thickly-robed as the man in the station room, or with as much jewellery. Most of the outfits were tight-fitting and hardy-looking, like mine. But they were colourful and striking, and in my mono-black, it was clear I was the odd one out.

People! All so different, all so striking. Despite Orange’s warnings, they represented a goldmine of promise and opportunity. I could find out where I was, places to eat and sleep. And I was glad not to be alone. Maybe someone here would speak my language. All I had to do was be careful.

Or… not. A subtle lull had fallen over the chatter in the area, and it occurred to me a number of the surrounding faces were staring at me. Not flatteringly.

Apparently I really stood out. Picking up my pace, I hurried into the nearest walkway, where the shadows deepened and the ever-present bundles of lights became more of a necessity. My moment of excitement was fading. Perhaps coming here had been a mistake.

Echoes of raised voices bounced off the canyon walls behind me.

I should probably find a way out of here, I noted, trusting the Guide would pick up on it. My stomach was starting to protest in hunger, but food suddenly felt like less of an urgent consideration. I don’t suppose you know the way to an exit?

--Capacity is currently unavailable,-- came the predictable response. I dismissed it out of annoyance, shaking my head slightly. I should have guessed there’d be no answers from that vicinity. The Guide seemed to know about the inner workings of the system it operated by, and little else.

The path I’d chosen turned out to be less of an alley and more of a long, narrow thoroughfare, packed with a surprising number of pedestrians. Lights danced from walkways above, swinging in dangling clusters, and more lights spilled from archways carved into the solid stone. Piles of mystery objects spilled out over the walkway on tables and cloth, hanging from balconies above in knots of rope. I squeezed past a woman with coils of gold around her neck, only for her to blink at me with large, scaled eyes. I stepped back in surprise, into the path of a man carrying a heavy stick riddled with glowing lines. He raised his eyebrows and used the implement to shove me roughly to one side, departing with an unfriendly glance over one shoulder.

I walked faster, but eyes found me, lips curled downwards in frowns and confusion. There were no obvious paths leading further into the shadows, and when I looked back, it seemed like there were faces following me.

I chanced one of the shallow arches leading into the cliff, only to come face to face with a small child.

Their eyes widened, and they pointed at me with a loud exclamation. “[~~~] Black!” I heard. “[~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~~!]”

I paused, made a double-take. “What did you call me?” I asked, crouching down to their level. “Can you understand me?”

The child only look back at me with alarm.

“You called me ‘Black’,” I tried again, attempting to speak gently. “That was it, wasn’t it?” I was starting to doubt myself already.

A rough hand fell on my shoulder and dragged me upwards.

It belonged to a stern man with glints of iridescence in his hair. The cut of his multi-layered clothes suggested a uniform, albeit still as colourful and flourished as everyone else’s, with the glints of a tougher layer underneath. He bore the air of an authority figure.

“[~~~~~ ~~ ~~~~ ~~ ~~~~~,]” he said.

“I’m very sorry,” I said, raising a hand slowly in peace. “I don’t speak your language.”

“[~~ ~~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~? ~~~ ~~~ ~ ~~~~?]” he followed up. His eyes darted up and down my body, derisive of my clothing.

“It’s the only outfit I have,” I replied, though it was probably fruitless. I tugged at my tunic and gestured carefully at the shops around me. “If you could provide me with a replacement, I’m happy to change.”

In a little under four hours, I hoped I’d be given the option for a language upgrade. It definitely fell under the banner of ‘current challenges’.

“[~~~~~~~~ ~ ~~~ ~~,]” said the man. His tone became more aggressive. “[~~ ~~~~~.]”

A small crowd of onlookers had formed around us, hanging back from a distance. At something of a loss, I backed up a step and attempted to walk away, only for the man to seize my retreating shoulder. He was far stronger than me; fighting back against him could only end badly. And I didn’t entirely understand the context; which societal taboo had been crossed and why. If my outfit was the only issue, perhaps he would take me somewhere it could be replaced.

The place he took to me was a prison.

Even with my extremely limited understanding of the world, I could recognise that much.

I found myself subjected to a brief and fruitless interrogation with another uniformed attendant. Once she realised no useful answers could be had from me, she and the original – guard, I supposed? – led me into a short, claustrophobic series of tunnels, where other men and women were stationed outside. Cages were set in their walls with bars. Cells.

Without making a fuss, I let myself be directed inside without making a fuss. Surely what I wore was a minor crime; there was no need to make the situation worse for myself. Someone would come along with an outfit for me to change into, even if it was only prison attire. I’d keep my head down and accept whatever judgement came along.

Until I understood more about what was going on, attempting anything else was pointless.

It was clean, at least. I had a small mattress with a thin blanket and a bucket. No privacy from the front of the cell, but the sides were hewn out of the solid rock. No dealing with other prisoners.

When the warden’s footsteps had died away, I let out a disappointed sigh. Keeping my head down wasn’t working out so well. And I hadn’t done anything except exist.

I paced over to the mattress and sat down, elbows on my knees. “Here’s to the next three and a bit hours.”