Runeguard 001

Day One

My alarm beeped.

I didn’t open my eyes. Whatever time it was, it was too early. Without looking, I reached out with my right hand to silence the damn thing.

My hand met cold stone.

What? I must still be dreaming. With a groan, I turned over onto my side. 

That, too, felt wrong. 

My bed was lumpy and unyielding, and felt nothing like my soft mattress should. Had I rolled onto the floor?

The alarm beeped once more.

I reached for the annoying clock again, but my hand only met more stone. “Bloody hell, where is that damnable thing?” I growled, my eyes snapping open.

I blinked. Then blinked again. 

I’m not in my apartment. For a drawn-out moment, that was the only thought filling my head. Finally, the gears of mind began turning again, and I processed what I was seeing.

I was lying on a straw pallet in a room bordered on all sides by unadorned stone. Turning on my back, I found more dull-gray stone staring down at me. Not only was I not in my apartment, I was somewhere I’d never been before—in a place you wouldn’t normally catch me dead in either.

How did I get here? I wondered. Jerking upright, I gave my surroundings a second longer look.

The stone chamber was dimly lit. Nonetheless, I could make out a wooden door to my left and a table in front of me. Its contents, though, were hidden from sight. Stranger yet, a torch had been inset in the wall to the right—an actual goddamn torch! 

Where the hell is this? 

The room looked for all the world like something extracted from a textbook on medieval history. Was this a prank? Someone’s deranged idea of a joke?

BEEEEP! BEEP!

There was that annoying beeping again. Rising to my feet, I scanned the room anew. The sound wasn’t coming from any clock I owned, that was for certain. Hells, there wasn’t even an electrical socket in sight. 

No electricity? How much weirder can this get?

I puttered around the room, perusing the contents of the table and tapping on the walls. No matter how hard I searched, though, I failed to find the source of the beeping. 

Is it coming from outside? I wondered.

But despite the room’s strangeness, I was loath to open the door and check what lay beyond. However I’d gotten into the room, it wasn’t by accident. And whoever had brought me here was almost certainly waiting outside. I’d face them when the time came, but that time was not yet.

The beeping came again. Louder still.

Growing more perplexed, I kept searching. I am not dreaming, I thought, coming to the conclusion only reluctantly. Everything—the smell of the burning torch, the feel of the rough stone beneath my palms, and the crackle of the straw pallet—felt too real. 

BEEP! BEEP! 

I stilled. Bundling all my emotions together—my fear, my confusion, and my anxiety—I locked them away and focused on one thing only: the sound. 

BEEP! 

BEEP! BEEP!

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

My brows drew down. It almost felt like… 

…the sound was coming from me. I was the source. As if spurred by the realization, words appeared in the air before me.

Creche Notice 1050-01

Welcome to the Proving Grounds, human Dace Tolman.

You and the rest of your species are now subjects of the Simian Galactic Empire. From this day on, your only goal is to serve the Emperor, glory to his name.

The Emperor’s servant, Suzerain Al-Takor, has chosen to spare your species from annihilation and offer you and your fellows a chance at continued life.

To this end, you’ve been transferred to Sector 52 in creche 1050 of the Proving Grounds, a hidden world configured for human testing and training. The first step in proving yourself worthy of the emperor’s service is to: exit the creche. Any knowledge you earn while in the Proving Grounds will be carried over to the wider world.

My mouth worked soundlessly. Alright, I’ve officially gone mad.

Another window opened before my eyes. Like the first message, it floated in the air, superimposed on my sight.

Human Dace Tolman, please acknowledge receipt of Creche Notice 1050-01. Have you read the message in full?

I glared up at the roof, scowling at whoever or whatever was sending me the hallucinations. “Of course, I read the message,” I growled. “How could—”

I broke off as both windows disappeared and another took its place.

Thank you.

I sighed, not knowing where to laugh or cry. 

The last message disappeared after a second, and I sank to the ground. Bowing my head between my knees, I tried to figure out what was going on, and just as importantly, how I’d gotten here.

My memories seemed fuzzy, but I doggedly persisted until I wormed free the ones I was searching for. 

I had been in my apartment—working as usual. At thirty years old, single, and living in the big city, my life was all about my job and slowly working to the day when I didn’t need one anymore. 

That was the dream, anyway.

A client had wanted the completion date of his project brought forward, and despite me knowing that meeting the new deadline was a near impossibility, I had agreed. The client was always right, after all. 

More memories rushed back—quicker now. 

That’s right. I had been working on the project designs when something distracted me. What was it? Something on the news… something so far-fetched, I had nearly fallen off my chair laughing…

I lifted my head off my knees, eyes widening. It had been a report of extraterrestrials. An alien fleet had supposedly appeared in Earth’s skies. The reporter had been going on about black clouds of something—nanites?—dropping from the strange spaceships to blacken the air. 

A startling thought hit me.

It had all seemed too preposterous to believe at the time. But now… I recalled the first message floating in the air before my eyes. 

“The ‘Simian Galactic Empire’,” I muttered. Were those the aliens who had appeared over Earth? It sounded ludicrous. But what other explanation was there?

“By god!” I exclaimed. “Have I been abducted by aliens?”

No response was forthcoming. 

✵ ✵ ✵

I don’t know how long I sat on the floor, my thoughts circling in on themselves as I tried to make sense of my predicament. But eventually I came to the conclusion that it didn’t matter.

No matter how or why I came to be where I was, I would have to find a way to make the most of my circumstances. If there was one thing I had learned in my life, it was that no matter how many times life knocked you down, you had to pick yourself up and keep going.

See to your survival first, Dace. Everything else, including understanding this crazy place, can come later.

Rising to my feet, I tried the door. It was locked. I didn’t let that stop me. Bracing my shoulder, I rammed into it.

 It didn’t budge.

I backed up all the way to the far end of the chamber, and was just about to hurl myself at the door again, when another message arrived.

Human Dace Tolman, you cannot exit the starting chamber until you have been analyzed.

I frowned. Analyzed?

The System must assess your physical and metaphysical makeup to determine your Nodal Capability. This will limit the number of Essences that you may install.

My eyes narrowed. None of that made any sense, but it seemed that whatever entity was responsible for the floating messages was responding directly to my internal thoughts. 

Was my mind laid bare before it?

I am not privy to all your thoughts, human Dace Tolman. Normally, I would only be able to sense those you direct to me or the System. However in this chamber, I have greater awareness of your mind. Such was deemed necessary by my Creators to guide new participants. 

I puzzled over that for a minute. “Who are you?” I asked out aloud eventually.

I am personal administrator i-4-252-527. For the duration of your journey through the Proving Grounds, I have been assigned to your person, human Dace Tolman.

“Well, that’s too long,” I muttered. “How about I call you Ad-i or Adi?”

That will suffice, human Dace Tolman.

“And enough with this ‘human Dace Tolman’ nonsense. Call me, Dace.”

As you wish, Dace.

“So what are you, Adi?”

I am personal administrator—

I waved away the entity’s response. “I got all that. I mean what are you? Who created you?”

Adi was silent for so long, I thought it wouldn’t respond. Eventually though, more words scrolled through my vision.

I am forbidden to speak of my Creators or of my exact nature. For your purposes, you may consider me a construct of the Proving Grounds.

I chewed over the administrator’s words then hazarded a guess. “So the Simians created you?”

No, the Simians are simply the Proving Grounds current owners. They did not construct it—or me.

I frowned. “But the Simians are the ones that put me here?”

Correct, Dace. The Simian Suzerain, Al-Takor, has registered you and the rest of humanity as participants in the Proving Grounds. Your entire species is now within its hidden world.

I sputtered. “That’s impossible. How can an entire planet, more than four billion people, be transplanted from Earth to this Proving Grounds? And what do you mean by ‘hidden’ anyway?”

The Proving Grounds’ location is a secret that not even the administrators are privy to. You can rest assured, however, that the System is more than capable of accepting the quantity of participants introduced by Suzerain Al-Takor.

I let that pass. “And what are the Proving Grounds?”

I am forbidden from revealing more of the nature of the Proving Grounds than I already have.

I sighed. It didn’t seem like I was going to get any quick answers. I set aside the mysteries surrounding this place.

“Alright Adi. You mentioned something about analyzing my abilities? What did you mean by that?”

On the table you will find a disc-shaped object. Place your hands upon it so that the System may determine your quantity of available Nodes. 

I tried looking at the table to see the item Adi was referring to, but with all the text from the administrator’s responses obscuring my vision, it was hard to make out what lay there. I brushed away the message windows irritably. “Is there no other way we can communicate, Adi?”

A pause. “If you prefer, I can respond directly to queries through mindspeech. Like this?”

I bit back a start at the strange—and distinctly feminine—voice in my mind. “Much better, Adi. Thank you.” I hesitated. “Are you female, Adi?”

Another pause, much longer this time. “I was. I am.”

I didn’t question her somewhat strange response. Leaving well enough alone, I walked over to the table. Sure enough, a large flat disk was at its center. With a shrug, I placed my hands on the metal surface.

A thrill of energy rippled from the disk into my hands, prompting another spill of words across my vision.

I opened my mouth, but before I could get a word out, Adi spoke in my mind. “Dace, the window before you is a System generated message. I can, of course, verbalize the information, but it is better you view it directly.”

I closed my mouth with a snap. “Alright, Adi,” I grumbled, then read the floating text.

Player Profile: Dace Tolman

Level: 1. Health: 10 / 10 HP. 

Stamina: 10 / 10 SP. 

Species: Human. Class: None.

Nodal Capability

Max Nodes: 17. Total Occupied: 3 / 17. 

Available Essence Nodes: 13 / 17. 

Class Reserved: 1 / 17. 

Occupied Nodes

Strength, tier 1 Essence: 1.

Dexterity, tier 1 Essence: 1.

Constitution, tier 1 Essence: 1.

Skills

None.

I read the message twice. Then once more, just to be sure. A lot of the information didn’t make sense, but enough did to shock me. 

“Adi,” I asked slowly, “is this a game?”

“No, it’s the Proving Grounds.”

“But—” I asked, waving helplessly at the window. The damn System had referred to me as a ‘player’ and while it had been over a decade since I’d touched a computer game, I knew RPG stats when I saw them.

I sighed. It didn’t matter. Whatever the Proving Grounds was, I would figure out its inner workings. Then I would exploit it. 

Like any good gamer would. 

My gaming skills might be rusty and years out of date, but they weren’t dead. I chuckled, good humor restored. “So what now, Adi?”

“I am not permitted to advise you, Dace.”

I shrugged. Seeing how much she was not permitted to tell me, I was tempted to ask Adi what use she was exactly, but I squashed the impulse. Why antagonize what was so far my only source of information in this world?

 But from the System’s response I could assume that this was a game, in some sense at least. 

I’ll treat it as such, anyway. And let’s see if I can’t beat the Simians in their own playground. 

When I’m done with them, they’ll rue the day they put me in here.