Cora Emerson hated video games. Well, she used to hate video games. Since the world went mad and signs started floating in mid-air, she had never felt more alive.

“Oh my word. This forest is wonderful!” Cora enthused to no one in particular, since there was no one else in this world she found herself in. Prior to this tutorial, Cora had been having an early lunch at the senior center. She couldn’t even remember what those old biddies had been complaining about this time, she was really just there so she didn’t eat every meal alone.

This forest intrigued Cora. It looked like a forest. Smelled like a forest. Even sounded like one, with the telltale sounds of birds and bugs and animals all around. Yet, none of those things were here. No birds. No animals. Certainly no bugs, though that was a godsend.

“You know, Harry would have loved to walk this trail with me,” she pondered aloud. “Loved the outdoors, loved the woods, hated the heat, and hated the bugs. Mighty difficult to enjoy the first two if you avoid the second.”

Cora noticed the weapons littering the forest here and there as she walked. She remembered having to smash that odd lime gelatin in the last Stage, so she picked up and tried a few different weapons as she walked. A spear made an excellent hiking stick, as it turned out. She wasn’t much of one for weapons, though, so she doubted she would be much use with it.

She had found a shield, though. She carried it on her right arm and used the walking-spear with her left, even though she was right handed. The shield just felt right. Not great for punching holes in things or slicing them up, but a good bonk over the head with a nice, sturdy bit of lumber should dissuade any would-be attackers.

Another handy thing to find was the simple cotton dress back where she poofed into this Stage. It was maddening that she couldn’t take any of the things she found with her on to the next stage. What seventy-year-old woman wants to wander around in her birthday suit? Disgraceful. Now, maybe back when she was in her twenties or thirties...

A flickering orange glow lit the trunks of a few trees ahead. “A campfire, how lovely,” Cora murmured. She thought back to when she and Harry had gone camping at least once a month. It was their thing, something they did before, during, and long after they had children living with them at home. Somehow, she doubted that this fire would have a coffee percolator hanging over it or sausages roasting on a stick.

When she first caught sight of one of the small green men, Cora knew that the Stage meant her to fight them. “Well, if it’s a fight they want, I’ll give it to them,” she said to herself. “Still, best to see if it can be avoided, there’s always a chance to just talk it out, isn’t there?”

Cora walked a little bit closer before calling out, “Hello, there! How are you little ones this fine evening? Doing some camping, eh?”

The little green men stood gobsmacked for a good fifteen seconds before one of them snapped out of it, yelled some kind of nonsense, and charged at her.

Cora yelled out, “Stop! Stop!” as it neared, but the green man only continued its mad charge. “Well, there’s no help for it, then,” Cora sighed. She waited until he was right on top of her and bonked him over the head with her shield. There was no reason to charge in to battle if they were willing to come to her, after all.

The next little green man repeated the actions of the one before it until it, too, lay next to its companion on the forest floor.

The last two came together. Cora worried for a second about their sharpened tree branches, and what she could do to handle two at once until she remembered the spear in her other hand. She gave it what she imagined was a Herculean toss.

The spear wobbled through the air and landed sideways in front of one of the attackers. Luckily, the green man dodged the spear only to trip over one of his fallen companions. That gave Cora the chance to bonk the other attacker over the head then wait for clumsy to clamber back to its feet and charge all alone.

Another bonk and the Stage was complete.

The next stage was absolutely a hoot for Cora. A group of men that looked like they had just stepped off of a Viking ship. Not a real Viking ship, more like what an advertising company that was making a television commercial thought that a Viking ship might look like, with fireman-calendar-worthy Vikings. Yum.

The Viking-man that met her in the hut where she poofed in was a talker. Boy, he would have been right at home with her Harry. Two peas in a pod. Harry could strike up a conversation with anyone, any time. It was his gift and Cora’s curse.

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

“Hey,” the large man started, “what village are you from?”

“Village? Oh, I see. I suppose you could say I’m from Florida. Do you know where Florida is, young man?”

“You were trying to cross the border, right?” he asked back.

“Hmm? Border? No, I think you might be confused. I lived in Florida, in the United States. Have you heard of it?”

“Oh, right, they said you were captured crossing the border,” he continued.

Cora realized that the man wasn’t quite a man. He looked and sounded right, but it was almost as if he was speaking from a script. Cora tried to hurry him along by asking, “What am I supposed to be doing here?”

The Viking’s demeanor changed slightly. “Straight to business with you, huh?” he asked.

Cora just sighed.

The plan made sense. Cora had figured out from the Viking’s odd speech that bad creatures were about to attack their position, and Cora had to help drive them back. She was thrilled to find out that the Vikings were going to be doing the fighting, and she just had to help. She found a shield, one that was a vast improvement over her last one, and decided to just try to block attacks for the Vikings and let them do the attacking.

"Ready to do this?" the first Viking asked. Cora had asked him his name a half a dozen times, but he’d just laughed and slapped her on the back each time.

“I suppose so,” she answered.

No sooner had the words left her mouth than a roar broke the peace of the night. Cora moved towards the sound and found a greenish man charging up the slope towards the camp. “What is it with this world and green men?” she asked herself. Unlike the last stage, with its little, awkward men, this stage had big, beefy enemies that looked like they just escaped from a body builder boot camp mud-wrestling competition.

Cora reached the Viking just before the green man did. The attacker carried only a jagged, rusty sword, and he swung it in a big, overhead arc. Cora raised her shield in time to block the attack, but the heavy swing still brought her to her knees. Luckily, the Viking behind her stabbed in the opening when the attacker's sword was down. The spear punched in and drew back out of the green man’s chest in the blink of an eye and the fight was over.

Cora barely had time to climb back to her feet and catch her breath before another yell sounded from around the camp.

Most seventy-year-old women would have felt despair facing down an Orc army alongside a handful of Nordic warriors. Cora smiled and breathlessly forced out, “How exciting.”

Cora wasn’t able to keep all of the Viking warriors alive during the fight, but most of them still stood when the battle was over. The leader of the Vikings clapped her on the shoulder and announced, “I wouldn't have made it without your help today. It has been an honor!”

A younger woman might have blushed with the muscle-bound warrior, glistening with sweat, patting her on the back, but Cora just wore a mischievous grin with pride.

The village rolled out a barrel of some kind of liquor that Cora thought might be mead. Whatever it was, it was delicious. A few of the villagers challenged Cora to a drinking contest, which Cora took to with gusto. The mead flowed, the meat was rich and juicy, and the company? Perfect.

It was sometime in the middle of the night when Cora, belly full of meat and mead, sweaty and satisfied, drifted off to sleep.

“So, you’re full of answers, eh?” Cora challenged the person sitting across from her. It was a young woman, wearing a short black dress with a slit up to the hip, classy black heels, and simple, tasteful jewelry. The woman shook her head, lightly tossing her blonde bob back and forth as she did.

“Of course not, why would you ask that?” she asked. Her voice was cultured, yet playful, like a girl from the Hamptons on vacation away from her family.

“I can see your eyes, young lady. Your sweet words might seem innocent, but the eyes don’t lie.” Cora’s voice held no accusation, only a bit of mischievous joy.

“You are an interesting one, Cora Emerson. I just had an interesting interview recently, and now here is another one. I think I might have a use for you, young lady.”

Cora laughed. “Oh, that’s how it is, is it? You are the elder here, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I definitely have a use for you. Tell me, Cora, what can I do for you?”

“Do for me? That’s not how I saw this going.”

“I have much more latitude than people realize. The tutorial is designed to help your people, you know. The world your people is about to enter would be dangerous if you were the civilization that initiated this process. It’s not that rare for a reality to have multiple sapient worlds during assimilation, but it is very rare for any races other than the one to initiate the assimilation to survive it.”

Cora’s perpetual grin slipped. “So, you are trying to help us, but you don’t think we’ll be able to survive what’s coming?”

“Correct again. So, I ask once more, what can I do for you?”

“I... I want to help people. Protect- well, protect whoever I can.”

The other woman grinned. “As I expected. I have a gift for you, Cora Emerson. Now, listen very, very carefully to my instructions.”