The elevator took us deep underground, to a part of the Refuge that wasn't on the tour. When the doors slid open, the departure from 'faux monastery' into 'doomsday bunker chic' was far from subtle.

Fike and I stepped into a com-crete hallway lined with reinforced alloy beams. A pair of small ceiling turrets followed our steps, although I didn't know if they were AI-driven or monitored by someone in a secure room. Either way, they still creeped me out.

Before we'd made it ten steps down the hall, a half-dozen monks with Sevenex armor vests over their robes filed in from a side corridor. They held their rifles in covert carry, muzzles down, but their stoic faces told me everything I needed to know about their willingness to use them.

"Evening, Paladins," Fike called out, holding up his right hand.

The six stopped in a neat double-column. A woman at the head rendered a shallow bow over her weapon.

"The Reliquary remains secure, Elder," she said with practiced formality.

Fike returned the bow. "Under the vigilance of the Watch, the Way is safe. I bring a wanderer. Jakob Qadir offers himself to the Trial of Time."

A shiver ran through my back. Had I agreed to 'offer myself' to something without realizing it?

"The Way is open for those who seek," the woman replied. "So sayeth MiniMax."

"So sayeth MiniMax," her five companions recited in unison.

With steps as practiced as their patter, the column of Paladins split and pressed their backs against the walls.

Fike led the way between their watchful eyes, and I followed, both impressed and a little intimidated by their show of force.

Once we passed through the gauntlet of guards and rounded the corner, I leaned over to whisper my concerns.

"What am I offering, Fike? And you didn't say anything about a trial. It's supposed to be a history lesson."

He stopped in front of a heavy blast door marked with mortal warnings about unauthorized access.

"The purest history lesson you'll ever experience," he said, grinning. "Discovery was about understanding where you are now. The Trial is to learn what led you here."

"You led me here."

"You misunderstand…"

"No," I cut in, "I'm being sarcastic. But seriously, Fike, what's this trial really for?"

"To access the Akashic Database and extrapolate your Covenant with the Order. To find out where it is you're meant to be."

I sighed, taking one more look at the 'we will shoot you in the head' sign on the door.

"That is the whole reason I'm here, I guess."

Fike nodded. His eyes flashed blue — a MiFi connection — and the heavy door shot into the ceiling with a pneumatic hiss.

The small room beyond reminded me of a NetOps station with a single chair in the center. Lined with server racks and flashing hardware, it looked like the kind of setup a psycher would use to mentally access the DarkNet.

"Ready?" Fike asked, flourishing his arm toward the chair.

I walked in, my bootsteps echoing in a silence that seemed at odds with the amount of digital activity in the room. Running my fingers along the central chair's metal lines, my eyes fixed on a helmet-like attachment hardwired near the top.

"It's a neuronic coupler," Fike said, joining me on the other side of the chair. "Gets you pretty close to what a psycher can do in terms of bandwidth and interfacing."

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"Beats anything I've seen at Edison," I said. "And my department was pretty big on neurocom tech."

Fike smiled. "It's proprietary."

I could see why. If it actually could get someone on the DarkNet without the need for psycher implants, the tech would be worth a fortune. It would also be dangerous as hell if the wrong people got a hold of it.

I craned my neck, peering around the room. "So, where's this history teacher?"

"Elder Ogawa will be running your Trial remotely," Fike said. "Once we get you set up, you'll meet her."

He patted the chair, and I climbed up.

A few minutes later, Fike had the neuronic helmet strapped to my head, prompting odd notifications to pop up in my NUI. Committed to the task — or resigned, maybe — I closed them without reading them.

"One last thing before we can start," he said, pulling a long strap from under the chair.

"What's that for?"

He reached across my chest and snapped the strap into a buckle. A surge of concern kicked in as he tightened two more over my waist and legs.

"Just so you don't fall out of the chair," he said, though it didn't feel much like a safety measure.

It did feel like I was offering myself. And I hadn't agreed to have my brain scrambled by some wild newtech in a basement.

"Can we take a step back here?" I said, pulling my arms against the straps. "I'm not feeling this."

Filk smiled. "You'll be fine. Just Embrace the Game State."

His eyes flashed blue again, and I fell asleep.

***

I awoke to a cloud of swirling colors, as if all the neons and holos around Hope Mega had thrown up in my brain. Fike's parting aphorism still echoed in my ears.

Embrace the Game State.

"What the fuck does that even mean?" I shouted.

Suddenly aware of the emptiness around me, I looked down to see that I was floating. Disorienting beyond comprehension, but at least here I could move my arms and legs — wherever the hell 'here' was.

"Yo!" I called out. "Fike! Elder On…Om…Ojibwa!"

I blinked and a ball of white light appeared inches from my nose.

"It's 'Elder Ogawa', thanks," the light said, pulsing with a serene young woman's voice.

I flapped and kicked, trying to put some distance between myself and the bright light, but only managed to roll end over end.

"You don't sound like an elder," I said, leveling myself again.

"Don't worry," the light pulsed. "I'm as old as advertised."

I scoffed. "Voice filter? Kinda vain for a hundred year-old monk."

The ball of light exploded with blinding color, forcing me to cover my eyes with my arm. When the phosphenes cleared and I could see again, the ball had become a Japanese woman with flowing hair and a smart-ass smirk on her full lips.

"And you're kind of immature for a twenty-six year old corpo-rat," she said, putting her fists on her hips.

"Former corpo-rat," I said, taking note of her brown dress and sky blue jacket. "And you're not even wearing the robes. Am I getting hacked?"

"I don't like the robes. I was against them from the beginning. Always thought they were too…cultish."

I scoffed. "Don't let Fike hear you say that."

She shrugged. "Meh."

"I don't know where you're remoting from, but maybe you need to check out this little Refuge in person," I said. "I'm not trying to be a dick, but there's a lot more cultish going on here than just the outfits."

Ogawa stepped — not floated — toward me. I could even hear her heels clicking against the floor. Or what could have been a floor, if it were there.

"I'm aware. But there's one key factor that keeps the Order from actually being a cult. Or a religion, even."

Grinning, she booped me on the nose with a slender finger, sending me end over end one more time. The flipping would have made me sick if not for the lack of gravity. Or organs. Or matter, for that matter.

"And that, Jakob Qadir, is why you're here," Ogawa finished, catching me by the arm. "So let's get to it."

"Whoa," I said. "Fill me in first. I'm getting sick of the 'Order of Mystery' bullshit. What's the one factor that I'm here for?"

Ogawa squinted one eye, appraising me for a long few seconds.

"Okay," she said. "I'll give you a hint."

I sighed. More mysteries it was, then.

"What's the one, big thing that cults take away from people?" she asked.

"Uh. Their scrip? Their dignity? I dunno."

"Their individuality. That's key to the whole concept."

"Right. Explains why you don't like the robes."

She smiled. "Yeah, that's why. Anyway, the Order is all about individuality. In a way, it's our entire purpose."

"Not what I've seen so far, but go on."

Ogawa turned around, then smirked at me over her shoulder. "I'll bet you're dying to know what 'The Covenant' is, aren't you?"

I chuckled. "Hopefully dying's not a requirement."

"You're smart, Jakob. Trained in the practical sciences and neuronic technology. So, I'll give it to you straight. The Covenant is gamefication."

"Gamefication of what?"

"Your soul."

I raised my eyebrows. "Look, I agree that I'm smart, but I designed telemetric readouts for sports cars. I'm not following you."

Ogawa spun on her toe, smile beaming toward me. A slow strut of ringing heels carried her back to my personal space. With her lips a few inches from mine, I couldn't help but feel a few urges. I still didn't believe she was over a hundred years old, but for that split second, I couldn't care less if she was or wasn't.

"That's all you're getting from me," she said, backing away.

Not gonna lie. It felt like the words carried a double meaning.

"The rest will come to you as you experience the Trials. Our system will access the Akashic Database which stretches back to the founding of Hope. It will choose moments of our collective history that it considers significant to your journey."

"And?" I asked.

Ogawa smiled. "You'll see."

She snapped her fingers.