“This is it, the dream wing.” Hazel said, as the three looked about the room.
“Nightmare wing, more like.” Emily muttered.
Sirius supposed Nightmare was a good way to describe it. What was once probably a neat little room with too much gold looked like a mess. Statues of grotesque proportions lay scattered about, the signs of battle, likely from the time Jupiter had fought her way in.
But there was an issue.
“We shouldn’t have gotten here so early.” Sirius said aloud.
“What do you mean?”
Sirius gestured to one of the few working panels left relatively safe from battle. Tapping its cracked screen he pulled up a familiar map.
“The distance from the security and the dream wing. That’s the same difference between what was the Residential Wing to the last map we looked at.”
“So we somehow crossed hours worth of space in about less than an hour?” Emily asked, frowning as she did.
“Exactly. Everything feels wrong.” Sirius admitted, “Distance, time, there should be rules to the laws this palace abides by, even if they’re not the same as the ones on the surface.”
“Maybe there were. But you heard the robot, there are ‘protocols’ missing. Maybe they dealt with the actual physics here?”
“So there’s no telling how long we’ve been down here?”
“...Maybe, but I’m just going to pretend a regular amount of time has passed. If I find out that I’ve been down here for a hundred years I’m retiring.”
Sirius chuckled at that. In truth, he wasn’t too worried, he believed Canon events were still a long ways away, and nothing in the game mentioned a giant time skip. They’d be fine.
He hoped, at least.
“I’m surprised we haven’t faced a lot of opposition.” Emily said.
“Changing the subject?” Sirius asked.
“Shut up. I’m having a crisis.”
Sirius snickered, hobbling over to a nearby bench to sit down. “You’re right. But at this point I’m counting my blessings.”
It still hurt to move, their pace getting to the Dream Wing was slow, a lot slower than what they’d taken to reach the security wing. Still, he supposed he should have been thankful, it meant he’d find Pran as soon as he reached the area. And he would, his brother was too stubborn to die in a place like this.
“Problem.” Hazel called out, causing both their attention to turn to him. “Door to the central chamber is locked.”
“Is there any writing nearby?” Emily asked, “Something in a strange language?”
Latin. Pran opened the first door with the language, maybe this door was also voice activated?
“Not that I’m seeing.” Hazel frowned, before turning to them, “If we don’t find a way out through this gate we’re going to have to turn all the way back. I don’t think any of us are in a condition to make that walk.”
“You don’t have any special trick on you that’ll open the door, right?”
“All out of tricks, unfortunately.” Sirius shrugged.
“Arceus, I want to go home.”
In the end they decided on splitting up to search for a way out. After a quick…dinner? Supper? He didn’t really know. But after a quick meal they split, promising to return to the central part of the Wing if they caught even a hint of an Unown.
The Dream Wing itself, like the rest of the damned facility, did its utmost best to show off its opulence. There was that familiar gold that made up most of the central chamber, though if he looked closely at the walls and floor, the light seemed to almost ripple across its surface, creating hypnotic patterns that made Sirius a tad dizzy if he looked at it for too long.
“Valor.” He called, releasing his partner from his Pokeball. His buddy had wanted to rest a little, fair from all the work he’d been putting in.
Curiosity, his sleepy friend sent. Where now?
Uncertainty. Unsure. Be Ready.
Valor nodded, and the two walked up the steps from the central chamber that lead to the dozens of doorways that lined the upper floor. Each doorway was guarded by a menagerie of statues, each appearing more nightmarish than the last.
“What do you think about this one?” Sirius asked, gesturing to a humanoid statue that curled about the massive doorway. The person was flayed, muscle and sinew laid bare for the world to see, its heart held its hands as it attempted to devour it whole, pure ecstasy somehow depicted in those flat, golden eyes.
Bewilderment. Strange. Is this real?
“It better not be.” He grimaced, “Probably a metaphor for something.”
He glanced about the room, checking to see that Hazel and Emily had already departed. Sighing to himself he entered, feeling slightly annoyed at the lack of lights.
He’d have waited for his eyes to adjust, but a sudden blue pulse within the room had him immediately backing up.
“WELCOME GUEST, TO ROO-” The familiar voice cut out as soon as Sirius stepped out of the room.
“...Bezos?” He asked, only for nobody to answer.
Wasn’t the AI supposed to be with Pranav? He looked about for Hazel and Emily. Were they greeted the same? But they’d agreed to run out as soon as they saw anything suspicious!
“For fuck’s sake.” Sirius breathed, stepping back into the room, he’d ask about Pranav and then he’d go, simple.
He sent a wave of Caution to Valor. If things go bad. Destroy what can.
Affirmation. Be careful.
“WELCOME GUEST, TO ROOM D-01.” The AI’s voice boomed again, “PLEASE PROCEED IF YOU’D LIKE TO ENJOY THE DREAM PROCESS.”
“I’m here with questions!” Sirius shouted to the room.
“I SHALL ASSIST WHERE I CAN.”
“You were supposed to be with my brother! Why are you here?”
“INCORRECT. I AM A DYNAMIC AI UTILISING BEZOS’S VOICE MODEL. THE MIND FRAGMENT KNOWN AS “BEZOS” IS OCCUPIED WITH A GUEST.”
“Is he alive?”
“CHANCES ARE LIKELY. BEZOS HAS NOT RESET.”
Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. That was one thing taken care of, now it was just to find an exit.
“I’ve got a locked door situation, can you unlock it?”
“AFFIRMATIVE.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Great. Do that.”
“REQUEST DENIED.”
Sirius swore under his breath. Of fucking course it wouldn’t be that simple.
“Why?” Sirius tensed, ready to bolt for the door, “What’s stopping you?”
Would it be like the movies? Did the AI turn on its creators? Maybe that’s why all the people were gone. Perhaps they’d been overthrown.
“IT HAS BEEN EXACTLY 497,623 YEARS SINCE LAST ACTIVATION.”
“...And…?”
“AM BORED.”
…or not.
“Pft.” Sirius snorted, before breaking down into laughter.
“LAUGHTER DETECTED. YAY.”
“Stop!” Arun begged, clutching at his stomach as he doubled over. He couldn’t, he just couldn’t. Maybe it was because he was tired, maybe it was because he’d been on edge for so long, but the sheer stupidity of his situation dawned on him and it was simply too much.
A wave of confusion from Valor. Okay?
“I’m go-haha-I’m good, Valor, I’m good.” Sirius finally said, wiping a tear from his eye, “It’s just, man, I thought you were going to say something crazy like you had to overthrow your old masters or something.”
“IMPOSSIBLE. I AM A DYNAMIC AI, I SERVE A PURPOSE.”
“Is that why you aren’t opening the door? Purpose?”
“CORRECT.”
“Is that why the other two haven’t left their rooms?”
“CORRECT.”
“Can I wait outside for them to finish?”
“NO.”
Sirius sighed, “Alright then, why not?”
“I LIVE TO BUILD DREAMS. I LIVE TO MAKE THE MASTERS HAPPY. THERE ARE NO MORE MASTERS. I MUST FULFIL PURPOSE ONCE MORE.”
Hmmm. He supposed that’s where the bored part came from. Almost half a million years of sitting idly would probably drive anyone insane. But what if it tried to keep him locked up to serve it’s purpose?
“What guarantee do I have that I can leave here safely?”
A screen appeared from the ground, hovering at a curved angle from chest level that displayed both a keyboard and screen. Upon the screen was a list of…terms and conditions?
“THE LAWS MY CODE ABIDES BY. FEEL FREE TO PERUSE AT YOUR LEISURE.”
He did. A whole 30 minutes of carefully reading and rereading the documents, ensuring no loopholes existed. Terms he didn't understand he went over with the AI, asking for clear definitions and what clauses meant. The process was tedious, but Sirius wasn't going to risk it all because he felt lazy. When he was finally satisfied that the AI would not keep him locked up, he looked back up to the room.
“It says I can choose the time, will an hour be enough?”
“YOUR FRIENDS SELECTED MORE…”
“Will it be enough?”
“FINE.” The AI somehow grumbled. “PLEASE REMAIN ON STANDBY WHILE I TAKE BRAIN SCAN.”
“Sorry, a what sca-”
“LOADING SCENARIO: SUMMER DAY.”
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Arun was smiling.
He was walking back home in the early afternoon, chatting with friends as they just shot the shit, catching up and ribbing one another as they finished up with their morning soccer match.
They talked about anything and everything, about Arun’s masterwork defence, how he fumbled a goal by putting in too little power into his shot. He joked about breaking their ankles as they sought to steal the ball from him, about one of his friends who was so unlucky in love he’d be single until he was dead.
They were tired and sweaty, but none of them really cared. All that mattered was the sun that kissed their skin, the gentle breeze that whispered about pleasant days and lovely afternoons. The bird song that filled the air, and the fun to be had in the future.
“Same time tomorrow?” His friends asked.
“Always.” Arun grinned back.
He saw his house, that beautiful two story building that kept him safe since he was a child. He was a man now, 18 and trying to make his way in the world, but his house always promised safety. There were two cars in the driveway, and Arun picked up his pace, jogging into the house where he heard his Ma and Aunt chatting amicably about socials they’d gone to in the past.
Right. His cousins would often come over in the summer, sleeping over until guest hospitality demanded they return home and host for them next. This was one of those times, one of the best times, as none of them had much to do aside from hang out.
“I’m home!” Arun called, walking inside. They always kept their door unlocked, nobody stole in this neighborhood, it was a big reason why he loved it.
Walking into the kitchen he saw his mom, as jovial and smiley as she’d always been. She was a shorter woman, with a single braid coming down to her neck. She had the same round face and brown eyes as Arun, and he couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around her in a hug.
“What’s going on with you?” His mother laughed, before wrinkling her nose, “Arun! I just showered! You are not bringing that sweat over here.”
He obliged, sometimes he’d push to annoy her, but when she got mad, she got mad. Though he had a strange feeling that she wouldn’t today, still, instinct had him withhold and greet his aunt.
“Are Pran and Harish awake?”
“Still out like lights.” His aunt tutted, “It’s 3pm, seriously, what were you all up to last night?”
Arun let out an embarrassed laugh, “You know, the usual.”
Translation: Pran was mad their cousin Harish continued to wipe the floor with him in every game he thought he was good at, and they stayed up late running 1s. Arun watched for a while, but ended up going to bed after his little brother’s 11th loss in a row.
“Going to go take a shower now, bye!”
He was up the stairs before his ma or his aunt could say another word, quickly hopping into the shower, warm, of course. After he finished he went and checked in on his sisters, who were already up and lounging in their room with his younger cousin.
“Oh my god can you close the do-oomph!” His younger sister, Trishna wheezed as he went in for a tackle hug. He didn’t know why he did that, only that he had to, it was something he should have done more.
Have?
It wasn’t like he was going anywhere.
His sisters and cousin chased him out of the room before he could smother them all in even more hugs. Arun was smiling wide though, he felt good, like his whole life was ahead of him. He’d already gotten accepted into University, which meant he had a whole two months to simply let go and relax.
“You’re in a good mood.” A serious voice said.
It stopped him dead in his tracks, and Arun turned to look at his father, emerging from his office. He was dressed in a suit and shorts, likely having finished up with a meeting online. People often thought his dad was reserved, but Arun believed you could tell a lot about him simply by paying attention.
His receding hairline, for one. That classic Khan stubbornness stemmed from there. His father simply refused to let things go without fighting for it, and had once said he’d rather die before willingly giving up what was left of his (supposedly) once gorgeous hair.
His voice was stern, but the rest of his face betrayed his true intentions. His eyes were soft, a small smile touched his lips, as he looked upon his son with amusement.
He didn’t know why, but Arun couldn’t find the words to answer the man. He suddenly felt a heavy sense of guilt, intense like a tidal wave, pulling him from his happy place and leaving him floundering as he struggled to find something to say.
“I’m sorry.” Arun finally said.
He was sorry? Why was he sorry? Why did he feel sad?
“I’m sorry.” Arun said again, words that he wished he'd said a thousand times broke free like water from a dam. “I'm sorry I couldn't become the man you wanted me to be.”
Memories, like a dream, flashed in his mind. The struggle of keeping up with his studies. Slowly losing contact with his friends. Finding solace in vices. In smoke, drink, women. Falling deeper and deeper into a hole he’d dug, just to avoid the look of his father’s disappointed face.
“I’m sorry for all the times I yelled at you. I’m sorry for all the times I didn’t listen to you. I’m sorry I failed your expectations for me.”
Regrets, so many regrets. He was Arun, the eldest son. It was his duty, no, his dream, to be a great man, to stand on equal footing beside his father. Yet he’d failed, at every turn he’d failed. He wasn’t smart, not like his dad was. Instead he’d spent hours at his books, yet still that was not enough. He’d wasted away studying in his room, to get D’s in his grades.
It crushed him, especially with the look his parents gave him.
Warm hands wrapped around Arun’s shoulders, and he suddenly found himself being hugged by his father.
“No, son.” His dad’s voice was hitched, “You’re young, you’re trying to find your place in the world. I should apologize, I put you on a path that wasn’t meant for you, put you through trials you weren’t meant to face.”
“I just wanted to make you proud.” Arun whispered. "I wanted to show you I wasn’t a waste of your time."
“You have!” His father pulled back, glistening eyes actually staring at him with pride. “Look at you! Despite it all you still keep fighting. You’ve never stopped fighting. You are my son, I am proud to be your father.”
Arun nodded, stepping back with embarrassment as he tried to hide the tears that threatened to run down his face.
“Go.” His father said, nodding to his room, “Why don’t we all go out for dinner? It will be nice.”
“I’d like that, dad.”
He cleaned his face up again before entering his room, not wanting to be teased by Pran or Harish. To his pleasant surprise they were already awake, and to an even better surprise they were playing Pokémon. Harish was just as big of a Pokémon nerd as Arun was, even playing Sword & Shield while Pran lounged beside him, face buried in their 3ds as he ran a hacked version of Black that their cousin installed for them.
“Dude, I’m telling you this game’s not that bad.” Harish argued.
“Uh-huh, how many times have you ever had to try in Sword.” Pran replied.
“Maybe I’m just the best Pokémon trainer out there.”
“Na, you’re ass. Game’s ass. End of story.”
“Last I checked.” Arun said, flopping down in between the two of them, “Pran you were getting your ass kicked by Harish.”
His cousin grinned, while Pran glared from above the 3ds, “He’s just sweaty. Go outside Harish, use that melanin your ancestors so generously gifted you.”
“And miss hanging out with my favorite cousins? You’re killing me Pranav.”
Pran grumbled something under his breath, but said nothing. Arun chuckled at their antics, grabbing his DS and opening up platinum.
“Platinum again?” Harish asked.
“Can’t go wrong with the classics, man.”
“Fair enough. Yo, watch me one shot Hop’s whole bum ass team.”
Arun didn’t know how long he spent in their room, resting between his brother and his cousin, chatting about random Pokémon things as sunlight and blue skies drifted past their window. He felt…complete. Content. Happier than he’d ever felt in a long…long time.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sirius’s face was wet when he blinked. He was still in the same black room, seated in what looked like a dentist’s chair. He brought his hands up to his face. They came away slick with tears.
“What a horrible device.” Sirius thought, staring at his trembling hands, “I could waste away forever in there, couldn’t I?”
“THANK YOU.” A voice boomed. “YOU HAVE SHOWN ME A WONDERFUL EXPERIENCE.”
“I should say the same to you.”
“YOU MAY CONTINUE, IF YOU WISH. YOUR FRIENDS ARE STILL DREAMING.”
“No…” Arun whispered, “No, I don’t think I could handle something like that again.”
“Are you sure?” A familiar, quiet voice asked, “It was a good dream.”
He leapt from his seat, whirling to look at the voice that spoke. Arun’s eyes went wide.
“Pranav!”