A white light appeared in the blackness. First a pinpoint, far off to almost be indiscernible, but growing larger with each passing second. Max—was that even his name, Max?—walked towards it. No, he floated towards it; for in the blackness he had no feet, no arms, no body. Yet still, some part of him knew he was somewhere, and conscious of, at the very least, that expanding circle of light.
He wanted to go faster, wanted to escape this darkness as soon as he could, but there was no change in his speed. Whatever remained of Max in this no-space wasn’t sure if he was willing himself forward, or if he was still, and the white light was simply coming closer at a steady rate. It was tunnel-sized now; if he’d had a body, he’d be able to fit through whole, without crouching or contorting himself in any way. Though he tried to see beyond, all there was through that portal was a pure, almost blinding white.
Finally, he surrendered to his fate, content to let the light come to him, to surround him and fill the darkness until there was nothing left but purity. However, just as soon as he’d stilled, the illumined circle stopped. It began to rush away, even faster than it had approached.
No! Max tried to yell—but with no body, no mouth, no sound escaped.
Within moments, or minutes—for time in this no-space was difficult to determine—the light had returned to a pinpoint, and the darkness was all-consuming.
Something different happened, then. More light, but multi-colored, swirling all around like colors poured into a bucket of black ink, until…
Max opened his eyes and suddenly became aware of the absolute worst headache of his entire life. He shut his eyes again before he could get a good sense of his surroundings, because the world was spinning something terrible. What was certain was that he was laying down and covered—presumably in a bed, considering the pillow and softness beneath him.
He gave a pitiful moan, which sounded something between a curse and the goblin word for ‘vomit’, and slowly felt around his head. It was wrapped tight with a thick bandage. He remembered past the darkness, then, to the road, to the overwhelming rage, to the sharp crack that brought the darkness in the first place.
“Well, well. The slave awakens,” came the familiar, teasing voice. “You didn’t tell me you could speak goblin.”
“Entrails?” Max managed to say, weakly.
“That’s my name, don’t wea—ah, forget it. So cliché it makes me shudder.” Max heard the squeak of a wooden chair, then floorboards groaning under heavy footsteps. “Anyone tell you how goddamn heavy you are for such a skinny kid?”
“Wh… Where are we?”
“Ah. Well, you’re currently in a featherbed, on the top floor of the Nesting Robin Inn. We’re in Crownbeak, the town, castle, and seat of Lady Crane. We’re also under house arrest, just so you know.”
“What do… you mean?”
“I’ll explain later. Listen. I need you to open your eyes.”
Max groaned.
“Yeah, I get it. But just do it. I need to see something.”
With some effort, Max winched his eyes open. First, a sliver, then as wide as he could manage. Entrails was standing over him, looking down intently. Truthfully, it was two Entrails’s, because no matter how hard Max tried, he couldn’t get his eyes to focus. Everything he was was double.
Satisfied, Entrails leaned back. “Yep. I suspected as much. You got Dissonance. Bad.”
Max had heard the term before. It’s what happened when players spent too long in Aletheia without returning to the real world. Everyone had different tolerances to it, and better quality Juice and equipment could stave off the effect longer, but eventually the psychic distance between one’s mind and body would take it’s toll. Stay too long and your mind began to fray, the seams between reality being pulled apart. Max knew there were entire wards in the real world, dedicated solely to those who’d cracked up, permanently. Max groaned again, louder than before.
“So this is… what that… feels like,” he said.
“That and a nearly shattered skull. You really took a hit back there.”
“What… happened?”
“Not important right now. Look, you need to logout. Spend a few hours outside and get yourself centered. The Lady Crane’s henchmen have questions, and they ain’t going to let either of us leave until they’re satisfied with the answers. We’re in this together, now. I need you back here sane.”
Max heard everything, registered it, and managed a nod.
“Good. Now bring up your menu. I can’t log you out, but I can guide your finger. C’mon, Max.”
Through heavy-lidded eyes, Max brought up his menu. When it appeared in the air, Entrails grabbed his index finger. He felt the mans calloused hand guiding him towards the button that said:
LOGOUT
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***
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
When Max opened his eyes to the off-white, prefab ceiling of his pod, he was immediately relieved to discover the splitting headache had not followed him into reality. Was he foggy-headed? Absolutely, but he’d take that any day over feeling like his skull was being mined for gems with a pickaxe.
However, it only took a second for him to realize that there were other problems to deal with.
His bedding was damp and soiled. From sweat, yes, as well as other… liquids. Max shuddered knowing his body had laid in it for who knows how long. Hours? A day or more? Juice helped slow down bodily processes and Pods could be outfitted with equipment that took care of this sort of thing, but until now Max had always logged out daily and didn’t see any reason to take the extra expense.
His stomach rumbled and his pod smelled like a public urinal, but right now what Max needed most was a shower. Everything else could wait.
After disconnecting from the Dreamdrive headset, life monitor, and Juice tubes, Max slipped out of his soiled clothes and into a robe. He got out of the pod, climbed down to the floor, and made his way to the other end of the room which led to this section’s communal washroom.
Each pod room of 60 pods had it’s own private communal washroom, made up of showers, lockers, sinks, and toilets partitioned by stalls. It was separated down the center with a wall, which on both sides stretched a long mirror punctured with sinks, 20 per side. As Max entered he veered right, where the toilets were kept.
After doing his business—feeling several pounds lighter as a result—he washed at a sink before heading into the other side of the washroom, where the lockers and showers were. It was late at night, so only a few showers could be heard, and to Max’s relief hardly anyone was dressing in the common locker room. He was sure his aura of odor preceded him by at least two feet, and would’ve rather avoided his reputation stained like that. There was someone else in Max’s pod room, pod #44, who’d already earned the unfortunate “stinky one” reputation and they didn’t need another.
Max stepped into the nearest shower stall and hung up his robe and towel on the wall hooks. He breathed a sigh of relief as the hot water cascaded down his head, ran down his face, cleansing his body of the stench. It might’ve been the best shower he’d ever taken. Though the circumstances were somewhat out of his control, he vowed then and there to do everything in his power to logout before Dissonance—and pissing himself in bed—could catch up to him.
When he finally felt clean and refreshed, which took longer than usual, considering his state upon entering the showers, Max robed up and put his attention towards the next order of business: fresh sheets. Once back at his pod, he quietly rolled over a laundry basket and stripped all his bedding before anyone could notice. The pods were all but noise-proof, but on the one hand Max wanted to be polite, and on the other he didn’t want anyone seeing him take out a bunch of pee-stained sheets. He rolled the basket through the door, into the large hallway outside, and left it against the wall, where he knew a hospitality robot would be by within minutes to whisk it away.
He returned to his pod, took out fresh bedding from the cubby above the entrance and remade the bed. Thankfully, pod mattresses were liquid repellent. All Max had to do was wipe it down with disinfectant—cleaning supplies were kept in the same outer compartment as the fresh bedding—and not worry about replacing the entire thing. Soiled sheets and pillowcases were really not that unusual; it was simply a part of the industry Max and all these other Pod Hive residents found themselves a part of.
After the shower and just moving around, Max was beginning to feel more himself. The light physical activity had helped remove of the fog, bringing some clarity to his muddled thoughts. Still, he knew that it wasn’t enough. Though Dissonance was new to him, Max had a feeling that jumping back into Starsword Online so soon would do him no good. Entrails had suggested exercise and the warrior seemed to know what he was talking about. Though his stomach protested, Max decided to follow Entrails’ advice.
A meal could wait a bit longer. Food coma and all that.
As Max began climbing back down to the floor, however, the door of the pod next to him, #26, slid up and open. A girls face peeked out a second later—from her disheveled curly hair and sleepy eyes, Max could tell she had just woken up. She yawned and pushed the hair from her cheeks.
“Hello?” she said, her voice still froggy… but cute.
“Oh, um, hey,” said Max, quietly. Though he didn’t know her name, he’d encountered her a few times in the months since he’d lived in the pod room. She’d been there longer than him, so far as he knew, and seemed to be around his age. Beyond that, he knew nothing else about her except that she was blind. “It’s uh, it’s #25... Max, I mean,” he added.
“Hi neighbor,” she said, smiling. It was an honest smile, the rarest kind. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Yeah, it’s, uh.” Max opened his pod and checked. “2:25. At night. Heh.”
“Figures! I always get hungry in the middle of the night.” She gave another yawn before turning around and starting down the short ladder to the floor.
Max wasn't sure what to do, with her condition and all that. Should he offer a hand? Would that offend her? He stumbled over his words. “Do you—I mean can I—help?”
The girl laughed. “I’ve been blind since I was born, number twenty-five Max.” She hopped off the ladder with two steps remaining, messy curls bouncing as she landed solidly on the floor. "I'm fairly confident in my ability to descend a four foot ladder."
“Oh, right. Sorry…”
“It's okay, it was kind of you.” The girl squinted and thought for a moment. “Maybe you could... guide me to the cafeteria, though? I mean, I know where it is, but some people walk the hallway so quietly, I’ve had some run-ins!” She giggled, but then frowned. “That’s actually never fun. They always make it seem like my fault. So I’d appreciate some help… and some company? Eating alone is kind of boring. Unless you have something else to do! I don’t mean to impose.”
Max was taken by surprise; he’d been living in the pod room for six months and hadn’t so much as spoken any more than a few words to anyone else in the Hive. Usually it was “hello” or “hey” or “s’cuse me.” He’d seen others make friends and having conversations, especially in the cafeteria, but in his experience most residents tended to keep to themselves. They were either too busy or too tired to pursue much social connection outside of Starsword or the other games where people worked.
The girl was looking at him. On the ground, she was nearly the same height. Though she couldn’t see him, her green-tinged eyes were open, unashamed. Max gulped. He considered his plan to exercise, but… it wouldn’t kill him to eat first. Besides, he needed fuel for exercise, right? Yes, that was certainly the reason.
His stomach agreed, enthusiastically.
“Um, sure,” he said after a moment. “Yeah, okay, I could eat.”
“Great!” The girl shuffled over and felt for his elbow. When she found it, she slipped her own arm through as though they’d been friends for ages. “I’m Lowri. Lead the way, number twenty-five Max. I've got burritos and chimichangas to slay!”
At that moment, even though Max felt a little warm and a lot nervous, he counted his lucky gems he no longer smelled like day-old piss.