There was no west in space. No north or south, no up nor down. In space, you chose a destination and moved towards it. Or recognized a threat and moved away from it. Space and time were relative, measured only in relation to nearby features.

The spindle of the compass whirled around, reversing course whenever I tilted my hand to a side. When held still, the spindle came to rest at a random position and did not correct itself. There were no poles to attune to.

Layla sifted through the tiny white salt packets and pulled something shiny out of the drawer. She twirled it in her fingers, giving it a once-over, and then slapped it into my other hand. The digging resumed.

At first glance, it resembled a silver pill. One half of the pill could be removed - a stylized cap - to reveal the USB drive within. When I flipped the piece of tech over, I found a letter carved into the metal, wonky and lopsided.

W

Or an M.

It was hard to discern, given the penmanship, but I came to a decision.

"It has a W on it," I narrated, to those who were gathered close, "For West?"

"Nah, you're wrong," Addy stated. He had a knack for polarizing every discussion, "It's an M."

"Yeah? How can you be sure?"

Teddy made a polite noise, and then took the USB from my hand. He inserted the business-end of the device into his relaxed fist, and then tilted his hand so I could see the letter.

"Plug it in and what do you see?"

M

Made sense.

"Point conceded," I said, "But why would he leave us a compass that doesn't work and a USB we can't access?"

"Secrets? Something to remember him by? Porn?" Addy suggested, "West's secret sex-tape? Now that would be priceless."

Layla chuckled dryly and Addy flashed her the bird. She looked to him and her eyebrows did a bounce.

What the hell?

I looked around at the others. Teddy and Addy stood to my right, while Blaine and Layla stood to my left. Intentional or not, Blaine was standing inside Layla's personal space, to the point he was almost touching her shoulder. Brad hung back, face pale, deep in thought. Kioshi sat on the couch feigning disinterest, and Maisie knelt in the corner where West had disappeared. Half of the group was trying to solve a mystery while the other half remained distracted.

And we were supposed to be developing a game. We had a time limit. Hours.

"I think we should table this for later," I opined, closing the drawer and setting the compass and USB on the kitchen counter.

"Alec, can you not see how serious this is? The man just bore his soul and said his final goodbye," Blaine asserted.

An attempt to demonize me, but not one without merit. Despite what he had just said, I felt warm inside.

Mine and two other heads spun to face the source of the misplaced comfort. Maisie now held a glowing orb in both hands. Still on her knees, she turned to face us, and Photo disappeared from sight.

"West is gone," she muttered, and her lips continued to quiver after she spoke.

Layla took an exaggerated step away from Blaine and then strode into the living room to help her friend up. By the time the rest of us reached her, Maisie was seated on a couch, leaning into Layla and sobbing. Each gasp between sobs made her entire body spasm.

Blaine flashed me his best 'see what I mean?' face. I looked away.

"Tell us what happened, Zizi," Layla asked gently.

Maisie turned her head so that she wasn't speaking into Layla's chest, "He asked to be turned into a star. And and and then he flew away and- I don't think he's coming back ever..."

"Why?" Addy demanded. Blaine slapped his shoulder and then side-stepped before Addy could slap him across the face. Miraculously, the conflict ended there.

"He will distract the scout from Earth," Kioshi stated, "Also, the Zeiton do not care about Earth. They will destroy it because Photo is here."

"Says who?" Addy asked, clearly not 'buying it.'

Kioshi didn't answer in speech.

'Whenever Photo speaks, I hear.'

Maisie craned her neck to the side so that she could see him, and asked, "Can you hear West?"

"No. Only Photo."

Maisie shuddered, and said, "Th- that's a shame."

"It is-," Blaine began.

But then there came another shudder, and this time the entire room quaked. Dust fell from the ceiling tiles. The kitchen appliances beeped and squealed. Something big and metal appeared on the wall next to the TV. Plates of food materialized, flooding across the countertops, and all but one emergency light went out.

On a deeper level, a light went out inside of me. I felt colder than I had a moment ago. Bitter and more prone to conflict. Less happy.

"What kind of janky shit was that?" Addy shouted, from the huddle of human-shaped silhouettes.

Once again, Kioshi had the answers. He said, "Photo has left us for a time. It is a trick to make the scout think that West is Photo and is leaving Earth. It will fail."

"You're too dreary, friend," Teddy criticized.

"I am honest."

Only one of the overhead lights remained lit, an emergency light between the kitchen table and the countertops. This made the new metal apparatus on the opposite side of the room hard to see. I moved closer to take a look.

Tubes and metal canisters hooked up to a large tank. Red and green dials ran along the base. When I squinted, I could make out the terms 'Power' and 'Air Flow'.

"What is it?" Addy asked, leaning over my shoulder.

"A gift from Photo to ensure we don't suffocate out here," I surmised.

"Keep your claws off of that!" Layla growled, springing from the couch. My muscles tensed. Had I done something to upset her?

Blaine picked through the fresh plates and boxes of food in the kitchen, ignoring her. Layla reached Blaine and drove an elbow into his side. When he recoiled, he opened himself up for a follow-up attack. Layla seized the opportunity and pushed the bottom of her shoe into his groin. Blaine's bravado visibly evaporated as he crashed into a wall, crouching and shielding himself from further assault.

"I said 'claws off.'"

"Forgive me," Blaine whimpered.

"Forgiveness is worthless," Layla rebuked him sharply.

Kioshi stood, deeming this a worthy time to intervene. He flicked his arms, allowing his clothing to fall into its proper place, and then proceeded into the kitchen. Layla stepped aside as he gathered each food item and stashed it in the fridge. She looked nettled, even a little unhinged, but she didn't dare to repeat the same action on this guy.

"We do not know how long it will be," he stated, authoritative, "We will ration food and eat it sparingly."

No one objected.

The last item in the pile was an expensive-looking bottle of champagne. Kioshi shoved it in the refrigerator, paused, and then withdrew it again. Rather than pop it open with a thumb, he uncorked it with surgical precision and placed the stopper on the counter. Without a word, he crossed the room and handed the bottle to Maisie.

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"Please drink."

Maisie accepted the gift and timidly placed her lips on the lid. Kioshi returned to his seat on the couch.

"I suggest you get on with your plan," Kioshi said, twirling his hand, gesturing to everyone in the room, "Photo does not hesitate in trading lives for time. I wonder how many we will lose for your slowness?"

"Yeah? You're really wondering about that? Why don't you lend us a hand?" Addy asked, toeing the line between cordial and passive-aggressive.

"Do not bother with humor."

"Whatever you say, quartermaster."

Kioshi cleared his throat but said nothing more. A warning.

Warnings typically failed when it came to Addy. I was surprised when Addy let it lie, instead saying, "How about you, Alec? Gonna stand in the kitchen and look pretty? Or are you actually going to help us?"

I was nowhere near the kitchen.

But I agreed to help him, and Addy set to showing me what they had brainstormed so far.

Their plan was basic, almost lackluster. But basic was good when our game was to be presented to every culture on the planet.

There were four parts to the adventure. The introductory quest. The journey. The dungeon. And the final boss.

Blaine and Brad had scribbled their notes across two sheets of paper. They were tackling the introductory quest, wherein the players would get their toes wet before embarking on their greater adventure. For some reason, Blaine's name was in every list and every paragraph.

"Did you name one of the NPC's after yourself?" I asked, nervous.

"You could say that," was Blaine's response.

Of course.

How would we even implement NPC's?

I wouldn't put it past Photo to kidnap more people. They had already kidnapped nine, at least that we were aware of.

...eight now.

I glanced to Maisie. She lay curled against the arm of a couch. Layla sat beside her, rubbing her back and taking deep drafts from the bottle of reLax. I didn't mind that they weren't helping, especially Maisie.

The development tools we use to construct the game were still... vague. Photo had promised us access to their anatomy. How did that translate to NPC's? Did that include a cloning system? A reproductive system? Life-like AI?

Knowing Photo, it probably wasn't that simple.

While one team had started with the beginning, the other was developing the end. Addy was sketching the final boss - a sort of demon - while Teddy leaned over his shoulder and made suggestions. They were enjoying themselves thoroughly, and I didn't want to interrupt.

Without permission or declaration, I took a seat at the table and grabbed a sheet of printer paper from the stack. I held the paper steady while inking a title in the top left corner.

THE DUNGEON

The rest of the page remained blank for a solid ten minutes while I pondered which direction to take things in.

I had designed many dungeons in the past. Dungeons for D&D sessions. Dungeons for Jengu RPG. Even as early as elementary school, I would chalk up elaborate dungeons on the pavement during recess.

This was different.

This dungeon would be real, and real people would be going through it. Not characters with stats, equipment, and class levels. People with questions about why they were being forced to play through a simulated adventure. People with lives which would be stripped from them without explanation. People like me.

I was taken down a certain path, thinking about my relationship with Photo over the past week. Photo had meticulously masked their presence until the eleventh hour. I had begged multiple sources for answers and the only revelations had been too ambiguous to work with.

I could see the religious connotations...

And the others were incorporating angels and demons...

I ran with it.

I spent most of my time laying out the atmosphere and lore of the dungeon, rather than outlining the layout or anything concrete. Until I had a better idea of the tools we would be working with, I deemed it a waste of time to draw out any sketches.

In developing a real dungeon, certain limitations were lifted and others were put in place. There were many things I could play with which would fall flat in other mediums.

Like the psychological aspect.

Usually, my player-base was fully aware that they were playing for fun and that there were no real consequences. That wasn't necessarily true in this case. I capitalized on this idea, making it the main focus of the dungeon.

"Alec, why are you writing a literal novel?" Addy remarked after some time. He grabbed one of my papers and rotated it thirty degrees in his direction.

I took it back and covered half of it with my forearm.

"It's part of the dungeon. You'll see when it's done," I said.

"Hey, I trust that you'll do a good job," Addy said, eyes bouncing between me, the paper, and his sketch, "I just wanted to know the gimmick."

"Gimmick? There's no gimmick."

"Ha! Doubt that. There's always a gimmick."

I understood what he was getting at, even though he was wrong. In past D&D sessions, I had constructed some of my dungeons around a gimmick. Paying with blood to open doors and solve puzzles. Illusion effects that split and recombined the party into different groups. An entire dungeon of elemental challenges.

With that in mind, I glanced down at my notes.

It didn't take long to see just how right Addy was. Sentence after sentence of ways to attack our players' sanity. Nothing else.

Damned tunnel vision.

I had at least caught myself before getting too deep. I could still salvage this, add other elements to the dungeon.

Meanwhile, the whispered bickering between the girls was dying down. Maisie walked toward us, all business. The tears had dried and there was a sway to her step.

"Layla and I want to help," Maisie announced, leaning on the table with both hands.

Layla still sat on the couch, the bottle of champagne tucked in the crook of her leg, "Lies. She wants to help and I want to help her. There's a difference."

"You never fail to charm us, Layla!" Teddy said, a sparkle in his eye, "Both of you pull up a chair and we'll get you set up!"

Maisie took the last available chair. Layla stood from the couch and zombie-walked in our general direction. Each footstep was heavy and dreadfully slow. A nonverbal protest to the idea of helping us.

"Slow your roll, money man," Addy said to internationally famous Ted Lax, "These girls don't know the first thing about Dungeons and Dragons."

Layla reached her friend and put both hands on her shoulders, "So? Tell us what needs done and we'll do it."

To my astonishment, Addy nodded and handed them a paper and pen. I would have argued to include them, had he argued, but he hadn't.

We tasked them with creating part two of the adventure - The Journey. With everything settled, I looked back down at my paper and began tapping my pen.

Focus. Find focus.

I looked to Kioshi. He was still on the couch, his back to all of us. I saw him visibly tense. Whatever was bothering him, it was bad enough to warrant showing an emotion. He selected a frown.

"Kioshi, you okay?" I ventured.

"Shh. Hold," he said, raising a finger. More heads turned. After ten seconds of tangible silence, he spoke, "Photo is not one being. There are nine voices. They are conversing. News of West's mission."

Maisie gripped the table hard and spoke fast, "What are they saying? About West? Good news?"

The cheap panels above buzzed to life, showering the room in yellow light. The refrigerator grunted a few times before giving way to sighs. The display on the cable box spelled out the word HELLO in blocky red text, the O slightly faded and flashing.

Kioshi waited for the room to settle before answering.

"He failed."

Maisie tried to speak, but it came out all wrong. She stopped herself and mouthed the word 'no.'

"The hell is that supposed to mean, 'he failed?'" Addy pressed.

Eight orbs of light descended on Kioshi and then split apart. Each settled on one of our shoulders.

Our kind did not feel time's weight until the two worlds clashed. We did not grasp what it meant to have an end.

Great. More riddles.

"No need to butter us up for the big reveal," Addy said, "We already know."

For two seconds, all of the wisps reshaped into the stepped pyramids. They immediately shifted back.

West's light has ended. Somehow, humans retain the ability to hear of death from afar. You are more Photon than I imagined.

"Nah, we're nothing like you. But we'll take the compliment," Addy smirked.

"Dude, West just died. Show some decency," Blaine demanded, before purposefully looking to Maisie.

Slimy. I shivered, seeing that.

Maisie went silent. Still. Somehow sobbing less than when we had heard of West's suicide mission.

I knew I should have been feeling something too, even though I barely knew the guy. But it was near-impossible to feel a negative emotion with the wisp warming my shoulder.

Addy slowly shook his head at Blaine. A third example of someone with inhuman levels of composure.

The scout continues to bask in the light of the Earth and resumes its course. Three hours become five, and one is spent. We must fabricate the seventh prototype with great speed.

The orb on Kioshi's shoulder zipped into the ceiling. A moment later, the entire room jolted like an elevator beginning a drop, only ten-fold. Papers leaped into the air and dispersed. A mess of clanking emanated from the fridge. Brad fell out of his chair.

And the room fell towards Earth.

I couldn't see it happening, but there was no other explanation for the massive acceleration and the screech of wind all around us.

The orb on my shoulder glowed brighter, and I felt light cascading across my brain like a shower of fireworks.

Alec Silver, what preparations must be made? Whisper your needs promptly.

My notes were somewhere on the floor. I recalled what I could from memory, "Let's see... I need to build a long tunnel. I'll need some plaques or some way of communicating what I wrote in my notes. And some black paint for the walls. Traps if we have time, but nothing serious. Illusions. And all of it needs to look... angelic, but in an ominous way. Not quite infernal... wait, you probably don't know some of these descriptors. I can give examples-,"

I grasp all words and their meanings. Language is universal for those unblemished by shades and their likeness. It is a gift from The Oneness, passed down from Spires and Pyres. Constellations.

Give me a fucking break with these riddles.

Like always, I had to turn the words around in my head before they made sense. In essence, Photo believed in astrology.

The others were also whispering, describing their parts of the project. All except for Addy, who addressed Photo with his normal tone, "-consuming fuel sources. Big black horns, fireballs for eyes, heat vision. Oh, and give him this tattoo..."

The rest was whispered.

Whenever it was clear that a person was done speaking, their wisp would change shape and soar away. Mine had been among the first to depart, and Addy's was the last.

We were left alone again, the room still plummetting through the atmosphere.

"What was the tattoo, Addy?" Brad asked.

Addy merely laughed, and Teddy chuckled. A joke between them.

"I'm not telling," Addy taunted.

The abrupt landing set everyone sprawling. Even Kioshi fell sideways across the sofa. There was no impact, no noise of ground breaking beneath us, no loud splash. Lights flowed back into the room, and one of them expanded into an abstract bubble of white lines and energy. When it bisected a wall, a white door materialized there, grandiose, with windows and a silver handle. The world beyond was red and brown. Barren.

Mars? Venus?

Nine wisps danced together around the door. Giddy, excitable. Ghostly.

Prototype 7 is ready to be tested. It is time to begin.