Uncle Sam was pointing at me like every WWII recruitment poster ever, but the words were different.

“I WANT YOU TO JOIN THE GALACTIC FEDERATION”

Galactic Federation?

I tugged the paper off the board and suddenly a message appeared:

NEW QUEST

Embark on a monumental quest to earn Earth's place in the Galactic Community! As a representative of the USA, you'll face thrilling challenges and competitions! Succeed, and the entire humanity gains probationary membership in the interstellar assembly, unlocking untold possibilities and alliances! Are you ready to transcend and showcase the potential of the human race? It's not just a test; it's our collective destiny! Embrace it, champion it, and let's make history! 🚀🌟 Join now and soar beyond the stars! 🌟🚀

No way.

Everything started to fall into place. The space station, the people in the formation, the teams, my sister, they were all part of this.

I was part of this.

At the bottom of the paper were the familiar buttons to accept or reject and I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if I declined.

Would I return to the obliterated Earth or a burning space station? Was there some other place available?

I didn’t know so I took the only real choice in front of me and mentally clicked “Accept”.

Faces started appearing in front of me then rapidly morphing into new ones that replaced the old ones. I didn’t recognize most of them but every once in a while, someone was familiar and with a start I could tell they were the same faces as the portraits on the wall back in the station, back where I signed the original contract with Abe.

The flashing faces began to slow down and I gasped as Hannah’s face appeared then morphed into another guy, but after a few more people, my own face stared back at me.

Apparently I was the last in a very long list of people who’d participated in this Test. But how? Were they pulled from history or had they done it when they were alive? How did all this work?

Those questions would have to wait along with the rest because when my face finally faded away, it wasn’t replaced by some random stranger, but the scowling visage of the writer and poet, Edgar Allen Poe.

Except it wasn’t only the face of the writer and poet, Edgar Allen Poe.

It was the entire writer and poet, Edgar Allen Poe, looking down and frowning at some kind of data pad. Its technology appeared more advanced than the equipment at the station, but there was no way of actually knowing. For that matter, Poe’s stylus ended in a feather like some old fountain pen from the 1800s but was clearly electronic in nature.

“Welcome Champions!” he said sourly without looking up, then threw the pen into the air where it vanished with a little pop, and stuck out his hand.

I wordlessly took it and he shook it, his hand limp and slightly damp.

He was a few inches shorter than me, with a frame so lean it bordered on gaunt. His skin was sickly pale, as if he hadn't rested in days, although the disheveled suit looked like it had been slept in, contradicting my last thought. His dark eyes glared at me over his smear of a mustache. There was a jet-black raven perched on his shoulder. It looked at me and cawed “Nevermore”.

Subtle, I thought and regarded the vintage poet.

Honestly, he looked exactly like he did on the shirt Hannah wore all through college. All the liberal arts students wore shirts emblazoned with cartoon caricatures of famous artists - Kafka, Poe, Rand, Beethoven and so on. Hannah had been a music major, so she hung with all the weirdos.

The guy standing in front of me looked like he’d been plucked directly off one of those shirts, even down to the massive oversized forehead. We used to joke that he probably dreamed in IMAX, but seeing him in person, I could believe it.

He finally looked up, then around. “Where’s the rest of the team?” he asked. “Just the two of you?”

“Two?” I asked, confused.

He nodded at Kevin, who was busy tearing rings around us and licking the air.

One of my foster families had a dog named Ginger, AKA Bitey McBitesalot and she was an air-licker too. She’d lie on my chest and lick in the general direction of my face, the little nutjob. Loved that dog.

“I don’t have a team,” I said. “I don’t think he counts.”

He shrugged. “Ok, you’re a team of one. A late team of one. I think you’re the last to arrive. Is anyone else behind you?”

“I doubt it,” I replied, remembering the countdown and the explosion.

“Ok,” he said officiously. “Well, then let’s get started.”

He looked up at me and gave a sickly attempt at a friendly smile, but his eyes widened when he saw the destruction behind me.

“Don’t ask me,” I said quickly. “It was like that when I got here.”

He looked at me hard, then shook his head to dismiss whatever ridiculous thought he’d just had. “It doesn’t matter,” he finally said. “We need to get going or the quest will expire and then where would you be?”

“Quest?” I asked. “Expire?”

He ignored me and launched into what was clearly a prepared speech.

"Welcome, esteemed participants, to the most extraordinary challenge of your lives, a testament to the prowess and potential of your civilizations. I stand before you as a representative of the Galactic Community, tasked with guiding you through your in-processing as you prepare to embark on an adventure through Quantum Realm MW-E-267.

Firstly, we'll confirm your identities and ensure you hail from the diverse corners of our universe, celebrating the rich tapestry of life that has flourished across galaxies. Your physical and mental well-being is paramount; a comprehensive assessment will guarantee your readiness for the trials ahead.

Communication is the cornerstone of understanding; thus, all languages and means of concept conveyance will be homogenized and standardized for all.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The quantum realm is not just a test of strength but of intellect. Familiarity with our advanced technologies, adherence to galactic laws, and sensitivity towards the myriad cultures within our federation will be critical. We will brief you on survival skills, the fundamental principles of quantum mechanics that govern this realm, and, importantly, the rules and objectives of our game.

Equipped with the necessary gear, you will navigate this realm, adhering to established boundaries and leveraging available resources. Remember, your actions are monitored not just for safety but to gather invaluable insights into your civilizations' capabilities and adaptabilities.

Before you begin your adventure, you'll sign consent forms and waivers, a formal acknowledgment of the risks and a testament to your courage and determination.

Some of you may find companions in this journey, forming teams that symbolize the unity we aspire to within the Galactic Community. Understand the scoring system, for it will gauge your progress and contributions to your team's success.

Be mindful of the emergency protocols. Safety zones are your sanctuaries, and signals for help are your lifelines. Remember, boundaries are not merely physical but ethical; respecting them ensures not just your advancement but honors the spirit of this grand endeavor.

As you find your footing in the quantum realm, know that you're observed with keen interest and silent cheers from civilizations billions of light-years away. Your achievements and challenges are a beacon of inspiration.

In choosing your entry point, we tailor your journey to align with your unique strengths, ensuring that every challenge is an opportunity for growth and every success a step closer to joining the Galactic Community.

Finally, let me extend our heartfelt wishes for your success. May your journey through the quantum realm be enlightening, enriching, and, above all, a testament to the indomitable spirit of your civilizations. Welcome to your destiny!

“I’m not going to remember all that,” I sputtered.

Poe rolled his eyes and flicked the surface of his pad.

A new message appeared.

Incoming attachment, accept? (Y/N)

A little image of the paper with writing on it appeared and the longer I looked at it, the more it expanded, until I could see it was the text of the speech Poe had just made.

I mentally clicked “Y” and I watched the little image fly into my backpack icon.

“There. Read it at your leisure. Can we continue?” Poe asked, clearly annoyed.

“Sure,” I said, wondering what I’d done to piss him off.

“Here’s the abbreviated version. Humans aren’t alone in the universe. You probably figured that out by now.”

I thought for a moment. “No.”

He’d been about to continue and that stopped him short.

“Ok, well, the universe is absolutely massive, with trillions of civilizations that include every form of life you have ever heard of and many you haven’t. You had to suspect, at least.”

I shook my head. “No. If I’m being honest, until about ten minutes ago I thought we were pretty much alone in the Universe except for maybe bugs and bacteria.”

As if on cue, something buzzed around his face and he swatted at it.

“Didn’t you just come from the station? Those aren’t public yet are they? Did you think your government had highly-advanced secret space stations they didn’t tell you about, just circling the globe?” he asked incredulously.

“No”, I said defensively.

Actually, yes.

That’s exactly what I’d thought when we arrived at the station. I’d been impressed our government had been able to do something so cool without it leaking on the War Thunder forums. Go us! USA! USA! USA!

“Well, now you know,” Poe said, relenting a little, then shook his head. “Whatever. We’ve got a lot to go over and we’re running out of time.”

“Running out of time?” I asked. “Time for what? How much time?”

“When civilizations are encountered for the first time”, he began ignoring my question, “they are evaluated for potential inclusion within the galactic community.”

“Who encounters them?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter. If you don’t stop asking questions you’ll never get to the castle in time and you’ll be disqualified.”

“What castle? Disqualified?” I asked in confusion.

He ignored my response. “Here,” he said shortly and poked at his pad. “Familiarize yourself with the game UI. It will be your best friend and…”

I started to protest but suddenly my old User Interface, the one that Abe had given me on the station was replaced by bars, colors, boxes, icons, and so much new information I could barely process it. Some of the icons were obvious but others were grayed out, as if they weren’t available yet.

At the top left, I could see a health bar, or at least that's what I guessed it was. It was red and had the number 100 on it, much like the earlier version. Right next to it, there was another bar, this one in blue, which I guessed was my mana. It showed a value of zero. Just below these two, there was something called a 'Blood Bar,' displayed in a deep purple, also with a value of zero.

On the bottom left of my screen, I noticed a chat box. It seemed pretty straightforward, a place where I could talk to other players. At the top left of my view there was a frame that listed the health and status of my party members, though it was just me and Kevin for now. Instead of bars, Kevin was just a little icon of a hedgehog with his name over it.

Across the bottom of the screen, there were various icons that seemed to represent my inventory, game settings, quests, and other things I'd probably need to figure out as I went along. Up on the top right, an icon of an envelope caught my eye, probably indicating I had mail or some kind of message. The logic of the UI didn’t make sense. Why have icons at all if you could just think about what you wanted and it would appear?

That thought was driven out of my head because suddenly I spotted the tiny, bobbing head of Abraham Lincoln. I’d “shared” my view with him back on the station, but the station was gone. Why was Abe still here? Could he still see me? Were we still connected?

I realized Poe was still talking and I was missing it.

“...and you won’t be able to compete. Considering how many didn’t show up, you’re going to need everyone.”

How many didn’t show up… All the blood and gore on the station began to make more sense. Wait. “Need everyone” for what? My brain raced.

I needed to find Hannah, I thought. She’d been part of a team and she’d know what was going on. Edgar Allen Poe or whatever android-robot-hologram-figment of my imagination he was, was the gate I had to pass through, the bridge I had to cross. He was the Sphinx, the Gordian Knot, Little John, the Black Knight and without him, I’d never find Hannah. I heard a slap and a muffled curse from Poe. It brought me back to my present. I would do whatever it took to find my sister and if that meant I had to put up with a cranky poet, that’s what I’d do.

I looked back at Poe who was looking at something in his hand. It was a small bee or wasp and as I regarded it, a system message appeared. Before I could read the message, it vanished and I realized why. Poe had dropped the bug on to the ground and was furiously stomping on it.

He stumbled back and as his shoe moved, the flattened form of the bug appeared. I had all the time I needed to read the system message but it was almost useless anyway.

Puffstinger

Health: 1

Damage Type: Environmental

Damage Multiplier: Variable

>

I thought for a moment. One health probably meant one point of health, so that made sense. It was a little bug and Poe had crushed it with no effort. “Environmental” could mean hot or cold, maybe wet or dry. Bugs could be poisonous, so maybe poison damage?

I studied the next item. The concept of a damage multiplier in video games was simple enough but what did it mean in this context?

What if the person was allergic to the attack, in whatever form it appeared? Maybe the damage from the sting would be worse?

Lastly, I regarded the greater-than symbol. What was the bug greater than? Was there a smaller version?

A choking sound brought me back to the present and I mentally closed the message.

Poe was looking at me in horror, almost begging, and I noticed his face seemed a little swollen.

As I watched, Poe's head began to inflate like a balloon, his features distorting, his eyes bulging from their sockets, filled with a mix of confusion and terror.

Next, his torso inflated, the fabric of his coat straining against the growing mass beneath. One by one, the buttons popped off, whizzing past my head like mini missiles. I stumbled back, trying to put some distance between us.

His fingers elongated into grotesque sausages, attached to a hand the size of a basketball. An arm grown as thick as a telephone pole reached out for me, its massive fingers grasping at the air.

His clothes, unable to contain his ever-expanding form, tore at the seams, leaving him in tatters. The once-dapper suit hung off his monstrous frame like a discarded rag.

For a moment, we locked eyes, and in that brief, eternal second, I saw a glimmer of resignation, then, with a sound like a thunderclap, Poe exploded.