As Nigel entered the loft he had to squint as the late afternoon light penetrated the open windows. He liked working near the window this time of day because he could see Jet. He also looked forward to watching the sunset with her as the day turned into dusk. Jet was already settled in for the evening at the kitchen table. She looked like she was going to be there for a while.

“Are you ready for date night?” Nigel asked.

Jet chewed on her lip. Nigel knew it was one of her nervous habits.

“Oh, sorry—I forgot that I’m getting online with April this afternoon. It’s been a couple of months since we played the Colossal Machine. Last time we were together we got her to the fifth circle of magic.”

“Okay. While you’re doing that, I’m going to work on that image of Peter’s computer.”

“You’ve been working on that image day and night. Is he paying you for the extra work?” Jet chided.

“No, but . . . there’s something about the malware that infected his system. It’s not like anything I’ve seen. I need to examine it further.”

Her brow furrowed, and she appeared to be deep in thought. Nigel wasn’t sure what she was thinking.

“Tell you what,” she said. “Join us—it’s been months since we’ve all played together.”

“I don’t want to intrude on your time with April, and besides, I’m not a magic user. I would just slow you down.”

“We will be there to bail you out if you get into trouble. I will not let the sludgelings get you . . . not this time, anyway,” Jet said, laughing.

Later, Nigel was glad he’d joined the gaming session. I’ve been working on Peter’s image for days—I could use a break.

Jet logged into the Colossal Machine. As it had been months since all of them had played, Nigel knew she didn’t want to disappoint April.

Nigel fetched his computer and started the patching process. He realized Pretzelverse, the developers of the Colossal Machine had been releasing several out-of-band patches.

There are a lot of small micro-patches. I bet these are all security patches.

“Nigel, we are at my microcosm,” Jet said. “You joining us or what?”

In the world of the Colossal Machine, a microcosm was a private in-game construct that allowed players to build and decorate their own private space. Only players with high enough skills and resources could afford this luxury.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

I should have been building up my character instead of leveling characters for Jake and Donnie!

Moments later, Nigel was at the login prompt. It had changed since the last time he saw it; instead of graphics depicting a space portal leading into a vast fantasy world, the login screen resembled an altar. Even with the enhanced AR glasses, something about the graphic was disturbing. Nigel entered his login information, then reached for his phone to enter the multi-factor authentication (MFA) code required to validate his identity. In an instant, he was teleported into the world of the Colossal Machine. But something didn’t feel right.

I feel strange—what’s the matter with me?

Nigel rubbed his eyes. He had been putting in a lot of late nights deciphering the code on Peter’s computer. Jet was right; he deserved a break. But when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t at his computer, Jet was gone, and the world was missing. He couldn’t tell where he was. He shivered as an icy breeze touched this face. Nigel couldn’t see anything; he was blindfolded.

Where am I?

“Jet, did we lose power or something?” Nigel said.

Something pushed him forward. He tried to resist, but the effort was futile. Then someone tied his hands behind his back. The sudden movement seemed to move the blindfold. He thought he could make out some dark shapes. Something scratched his arm.

“A sacrifice is in order—me lord,” a gruff voice said.

“Sacrifice? Who the hell are you people?”

“People? We not like you, human.”

“Then who the hell are you?”

“Bach’dor the Great—or I will be, once I turn in the bounty on your head, human. Now move!”

Another push.

“You may approach the altar,” a strong, commanding voice said.

Bach’dor dragged him then threw him to the ground; it was icy cold. Nigel scraped a knuckle, and the warm sensation of blood drip across his fingers.

“You may remove his bindings and blindfold.”

“Are you sure, m’lord?” Bach’dor said.

A moment later, someone untied Nigel’s restraints. He couldn’t believe what he saw; it was like the game had transported him into a movie set. A giant troll of a man sat before him. Nigel estimated his height was at least seven feet. His arms were the size of one of Nigel’s thighs, and his head was massive. He looked like a cross between an oversized pig and a professional wrestler. His face was the most disturbing. In additional to the many scars that crisscrossed his face, he had a giant nose ring.

“Are you Nige the Wicked?” the giant pig man said.

“Huh?” Nigel asked.

“Yes—he’s the one responsible for the deaths of so many innocents in Parousia,” Bach’dor said as he stuttered out the last few words.

The giant pig-man threw a rather large sack in the air. Nigel had to duck to avoid getting hit. Nigel looked to see another shorter—but no less grotesque—pig-like creature catch the sack, and then he made it disappear into his robes.

“Take him away,” the larger pig-man said.

Before Nigel could say anything, darkness engulfed him as the sack was pulled down, and he was dragged away by some unseen force.

“Hello? Earth to Nigel, you there?” Jet said.

Nigel was back in his loft. The login screen showing the altar was gone; instead, the login screen showing the portal was prominently displayed.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Nigel said.

Jet gave him a wary look.

“Where did you go? You totally zoned out for a moment. What happened to your hand?”

Nigel looked at his hand; it looked like he had scraped it against a brick wall.

Strange!

“I’ll be back,” Nigel said as he headed toward the bathroom.