Re: Inexorable Altercation [Round IV - Hezekiah]
03-11-2012, 09:56 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by PlumFinder.
[color=#400080]The sun was finally setting after a long day. As the sky was gradually growing dark, a group of Creeper children was finishing its game of Tagball. Nobody paid any attention to the four lonely figures sitting in the highest tree of the field.
Greyve was staring morosely at the Creepers. He had tried and tried again, but there seemed to be no way of waking Loran up. In all likelihood, the fool would get eaten by some wandering monster seeing an easy prey in him. Served him right, really, but Greyve would die with him. It wasn't something he was looking forward to. A cluster of leaves drifted in front of his eyes and formed words.
'THEY SHOULD STOP KILLING. IT IS BAD.'
Greyve peered past the leaves at the children tossing a ball around.
'They aren't killing anyone,' he said, turning to Voitrach.
'GOOD. THEY SHOULDN't.'
Greyve resisted the urge to punch Voitrach, since it would probably hurt him more than the golem. Besides, the thing couldn't help it. Loran's manifestations of the dead contestants were based on the memories of all the other contestants, but in Voitrach's case it looked like Loran's feelings had been too strong. Voitrach had been reduced to what Loran thought of him: A bunch of rocks that only cared about people being nice to eachother.
Come to think of it, something was wrong with Felix as well. Some minutes ago, he had suddenly fallen silent. He had been staring in the distance ever since.
'Felix?' Greyve prodded him, but got no response.
'DON'T KILL HIM,' Voitrach formed, swinging a massive rock at Greyve. Greyve threw himself flat against the treetrunk, and the rock hit Felix instead.
'Damnit, you moron!' Greyve snapped. Felix had toppled from his branch without so much as a yelp, and was now lying in the grass, some feet below them. Greyve clambered down. It was stupid to worry, since they didn't have actual bodies, but Felix had been an amiable companion during the first few memories, and it would really suck if he somehow died.
As it turned out, the punch had done him more good than harm.
'Hello, Greyve,' he said absentmindedly, as Greyve crouched beside him. 'I think I'm still alive.'
'Yes,'Greyve said, pulling Felix to his feet. 'We can't die in here, I think.'
Felix returned his tophat to its proper place and shook his head.
'That's not what I meant. I think I am actually alive, out there. I can feel it.'
'Feel what?' Greyve asked.
'Myself,' Felix explained, and then shrugged. 'The ay we can feel the others, on whose memories we are based. I just feel like I'm more than just their collective memories. Like my own memories are still out there, connected to me.'
'Do you think you -' Greyve started, but Felix cut him off with a hand gesture.
'First things first. If I have a mental connection with the outside world, I might be able to pull Loran out of his hallucinations. Worth a try?'
Without waiting for a response, Felix closed his eyes and concentrated. Sure enough, the force that was him was still out there, somewhere. He reached out to it-
Loran opened his eyes, and for a moment he didn't know how to move. Where had the fields gone? Had they only been a hallucination? He was lying on the floor, staring at the sky. What had been a starless dark blue night had turned into metal plating, not far above him. The fresh smell of leaves had been replaced by stale air. It wasn't a particularly unpleasant smell. More like the air had not been refreshed for a long time. He took a deep breath of canned air and tried to clear his head. Obviously, his previous surroundings had been false. The most obvious clue being that he hadn't been a child for years. The one after that was that he hadn't been trying to kill anyone. He couldn't remember what it felt like not to have a target.
'Take your time,' a shade next to him said gently. No, not a shade. His eyes were just foggy.
'Atrum?' Loran asked. His hand mechanically went for his knives.
'Yes, but a dead one,' the memory of Felix said. 'You may remember watching it.'
Loran pushed himself up in a sitting position, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. He steadied himself against the wall until the room stopped moving.
'That damn memory place,' he growled. 'My head worked perfectly before I got there.'
'I dispute that,' Greyve's voice came from the distance. 'Or I would, if we didn't have more important things to worry about.'
'Yes, like finding me,' Felix said excitedly. 'It shouldn't be hard. I feel the same connection as with Will and Anneliese, except much stronger. More personal.'
Loran blinked his eyes rapidly and managed to focus on Felix.
'Where is your jacket?'
Felix' face fell. Greyve chuckled.
'We have accurately located the individuals Will Haven and Anneliese Nibbs,' OTTO reported. 'In the interest of survival, we recommend making our way towards either one.'
'I don't see why,' Loran said. He started to remember what had happened prior to being hit by concentrated memory. Felix was dead. Voitrach was dead. Gias was dead. And still the game continued. There were no rules left to the contest. It had been organized by a group of previous contestants, who had then started killing this group themselves to move it along. Just last round, two contestants had died, plus one of the organizers. What else could there be done to escape? It seemed this contest was set to continue, no matter what.
'We could meet up with them first, before trying to escape,' Greyve suggested. 'At the very least, it will stop you from getting killed by the first wandering monster we come across.'
'Alright,' Loran said. 'But if they shoot me on sight, it's your fault.'
'What about-?' Felix protested.
'Shut up,' Loran said. He stood, shaking on his legs. 'Is it far?'
'Yes,' OTTO said.
'Fuck.' Loran leaned against the wall. He wasn't going to get very far in this condition. There was nothing to do but hope it would get better.
'Or perhaps you'll get used to it,' Greyve said. 'You got used to us.'
'Don't count on that,' Loran said, glaring at Greyve. 'Next time I meet a therapist, I'll get you removed from my head.'
'Focus on that,' Greyve said, grinning.
Loran nodded, and pushed the open the door into the hallway.
The entire Hezekiah was practically the same, Loran soon found out. All hallways had the same layout: Walls of some unknown type of metal, doors at regular intervals, silent except for his own footfalls and the occasional scream. Without the guidance of the dead contestants, he would've been lost numerous times already.
'So, I was out during our arrival,' he said, after a while of walking in silence. 'Anyone care to brief me?'
'It's a prisonship,' Felix said. 'Mostly intended for torture, I think.'
'That explains the screams, I guess,' Loran said. 'Shouldn't there be guards?'
Someone answered from behind him:
'The Hezekiah guards itself.'
Loran cursed and spun around, knives in his hands. An elderly creature stood in one of the doorways, leaning on a cane. It wasn't any species he had ever encountered, with a scaly yellow exterior and a long snout full of teeth.
'Who were you talking to?' the creature asked gently. It lowered its head somewhat, indicating subservience. Loran relaxed. The guy was afraid of him. He knew how to deal with that.
'My imaginary friends,' he answered, drawing the corners of his mouth upward. The creature shuffled its feet nervously at the display of teeth, and Loran dropped the grin.
'Are we your friends now?' Greyve asked, mockingly flattered. 'Loran, you have no idea how happy this makes me.'
'Correction,' Loran said. 'Imaginary assholes. Who are you?'
'A prisoner,' the creature said, and tittered. 'A smart prisoner. How about you?'
'Neither,' Loran said. 'I'm planning to leave here first chance I get. Doesn't look very hospitable.'
'Oh, that's what they all say, the first time,' the creature said. 'And the second time, and the third time, and every time. Until they stop.'
'What does he mean?' Greyve said. 'Tell him to explain.'
'I...' Loran frowned, gestured at Geyve to go jump off a cliff, and cleared his throat. 'Very well. Explain.'
'Alright, alright,' the creature said, waving Loran into the room. 'Can't hurt, can it?'
Loran let himself be waved in, gripping his knives more tightly. The room was filled with people, fifty or so, but none of them was awake. They were strapped into some sort of beds, connected to cables and machinery. Every now and then, one of them moaned or screamed, and the sound echoed through the chamber. They were the sounds heard throughout the entire ship, coming from these people, and the ones undoubtedly held behind the other doors.
Behind Loran, Felix cursed.
'This place... You've got to be kidding me...'
Light flashed as electricity ran down some of the cables. Ten prisoners screamed in unison. It lasted for a few seconds, and then it stopped. The silence was deafening. The prisoners laid still, like nothing had happened.
The creature led the way to a small table and some stools.
'Don't mind them,' he spoke over his shoulder. 'They are broken beyond repair.'
'In what way?' Loran asked, unable to take his eyes of the display surrounding him. 'Why don't they respond to being hurt? Are they drugged?'
The creature smiled lazily.
'Yes, you are definitely new. Does it shock you so?'
Loran tore his eyes away from the moaning people and glared at the creature.
'I kill people for a living. I'm not shocked easily,' he hesitated, glancing around him. 'But there's something wrong with this, and it feels off. What is going on? Why are these people being tortured and taking it like that?'
'Let me explain to you what life at the Hezekiah is like, youngling,' the creature said, and conjured a teabowl from somewhere. 'Sit down.'
Felix' face lit up.
'Tea! Excellent! Now we're talking!'
Loran sat down and accepted a cup. He didn't drink. The creature sipped its tea thoughtfully, letting its gaze wander over the bound people (some of them screamed as they were electrocuted, others trashed in their bonds for seemingly no reason).
'The Hezekiah is the ultimate punishment,' the creature said. 'It is where the worst scum in the universe is sent. The ones who deserve an eternity of torture, and would still be getting off easily. Mass murderers, terrorists, crazy dictators, free thinkers, conquerers.'
He nodded at that last one, and smiled.
'Yes, those were the times...'He sipped his tea again, and continued. 'There are only a few ships like this in existence in the entire universe. Even an endless number of planets only holds so much irredeemable criminals. The Hezekiah is the biggest, though.'
'How many doors did we pass before we got here?' Greyve asked. 'A few hundred?'
'Threehundredfortyseven,' OTTO answered instantly. 'Including this one.'
'And it was barely a twentieth of the ship. How many prisoners...' Greyve said, then fell silent.
'The prisoners are held in a constant state of both physical and mental torture,' the creature continued. 'It keeps them in a state of pain and fear which is impossibly hard to break through. It takes an immense amount of willpower to break through the mental shroud and become aware of ones surroundings, and even more to stay awake long enough to break free from the physical bonds. They always manage, though. Each new batch of prisoners always includes at least one person who gets free and attempts to escape. In most cases, this happens by freeing the others and staging a rebellion. Either a full-blown one, or a small one, just enough to get some freedom of movement and time to implement plans.'
'So why hasn't anyone escaped?' Loran asked. The creature emtpied its teacup and refilled it.
'Because it's all a game,' it said. 'The Hezekiah is sentient and tracks the movements of everyone inside it. The guards, the crew, the doors and walls, they're all decoys. Things for the prisoners to resist. To make them think they are winning. And when victory seems within their grasp, when they start thinking that maybe, just maybe, this plan might work, the real defenses get activated. Everyone gets put back in their bonds, and the game starts again. Each time, it gets harder to play. Someone breaks free, and knows what happened last time he tried to get away. He's on his guard, doesn't wake everyone, keeps the plan small and simple. And is captured again when he thinks this time will do the trick. Next time, the same thing. And the time after that. And the next one. The game goes on until, one day, after seeing his hopes crushed for the umpteenth time, the prisoner can't summon the willpower anymore to break free of his bonds. And then the game ends. Eternal torture for the player, and the bonedeep knowledge that there is no hope of escape.'
The creature sipped its tea. Loran took the time to look again at the bound people.
'Is that what happened to these people?' he asked.
'Yes,' the creature sighed. 'My group. Tried seven times. Last time was only me and two others. Since then, I'm the only one who manages to break free... I could try to wake them up, but I don't think I would be doing them a favor. They never had my patience. I am content to sit here and enjoy a few weeks of no torture. That is enough of an incentive for me to break free. They, however, would want to try again... I've tried to convince them, 'If you can't live with this situation, just kill yourselves. You're not going to get out'. But they refuse to give up, even though they already have. They just won't admit it to themselves...'
The creature emptied its second cup, and set it down in front of him. Loran looked at his untouched cup, and put it down as well.
'So now you know. You will never escape. Either find yourself a quiet place to enjoy a few moments of peace, or kill yourself now.'
'I'm sorry to crush your philosophy,' Loran said, 'but I have a way out.'
The creature chuckled.
'So be it, then. You will learn the hard way. I was hoping you could keep me company during my spare time.'
Loran stood.
'I thank you for your information,' he said. 'Now that I understand the ship, I may be able to fight it better.'
'You will learn,' the creature said, and for a moment it sounded almost sad. 'At the very least, I can point you to some others.'
It got up and made it's way through the groaning prisoners to a crude map drawn on the wall. By the looks of it, it was one of the Hezekiah's blocks.
'We are here,' the creature said, pointing to a room in the middle of the map. 'Over here is a rebellion going, at the moment. It's not very fresh anymore, and has been going for a few months. The Hezekiah will get them soon, no doubt. If you hurry, you might just catch the tail end of it.'
Loran glanced at the illusions behind him. Greyve nodded.
'Will is somwhere around there.'
'Thank you,' Loran said. The creature shrugged.
'I would wish you good luck, but as it is, I hope the Hezekiah gets you soon. You may see the truth in my words, then, and be able to kill yourself before it's too late.'
'Yes,'Loran said. He was getting a bit uncomfortable around this guy and his talk of killing themselves. 'I will go now, then.'
He could see where the creature was coming from, of course. Su
[color=#400080]The sun was finally setting after a long day. As the sky was gradually growing dark, a group of Creeper children was finishing its game of Tagball. Nobody paid any attention to the four lonely figures sitting in the highest tree of the field.
Greyve was staring morosely at the Creepers. He had tried and tried again, but there seemed to be no way of waking Loran up. In all likelihood, the fool would get eaten by some wandering monster seeing an easy prey in him. Served him right, really, but Greyve would die with him. It wasn't something he was looking forward to. A cluster of leaves drifted in front of his eyes and formed words.
'THEY SHOULD STOP KILLING. IT IS BAD.'
Greyve peered past the leaves at the children tossing a ball around.
'They aren't killing anyone,' he said, turning to Voitrach.
'GOOD. THEY SHOULDN't.'
Greyve resisted the urge to punch Voitrach, since it would probably hurt him more than the golem. Besides, the thing couldn't help it. Loran's manifestations of the dead contestants were based on the memories of all the other contestants, but in Voitrach's case it looked like Loran's feelings had been too strong. Voitrach had been reduced to what Loran thought of him: A bunch of rocks that only cared about people being nice to eachother.
Come to think of it, something was wrong with Felix as well. Some minutes ago, he had suddenly fallen silent. He had been staring in the distance ever since.
'Felix?' Greyve prodded him, but got no response.
'DON'T KILL HIM,' Voitrach formed, swinging a massive rock at Greyve. Greyve threw himself flat against the treetrunk, and the rock hit Felix instead.
'Damnit, you moron!' Greyve snapped. Felix had toppled from his branch without so much as a yelp, and was now lying in the grass, some feet below them. Greyve clambered down. It was stupid to worry, since they didn't have actual bodies, but Felix had been an amiable companion during the first few memories, and it would really suck if he somehow died.
As it turned out, the punch had done him more good than harm.
'Hello, Greyve,' he said absentmindedly, as Greyve crouched beside him. 'I think I'm still alive.'
'Yes,'Greyve said, pulling Felix to his feet. 'We can't die in here, I think.'
Felix returned his tophat to its proper place and shook his head.
'That's not what I meant. I think I am actually alive, out there. I can feel it.'
'Feel what?' Greyve asked.
'Myself,' Felix explained, and then shrugged. 'The ay we can feel the others, on whose memories we are based. I just feel like I'm more than just their collective memories. Like my own memories are still out there, connected to me.'
'Do you think you -' Greyve started, but Felix cut him off with a hand gesture.
'First things first. If I have a mental connection with the outside world, I might be able to pull Loran out of his hallucinations. Worth a try?'
Without waiting for a response, Felix closed his eyes and concentrated. Sure enough, the force that was him was still out there, somewhere. He reached out to it-
Loran opened his eyes, and for a moment he didn't know how to move. Where had the fields gone? Had they only been a hallucination? He was lying on the floor, staring at the sky. What had been a starless dark blue night had turned into metal plating, not far above him. The fresh smell of leaves had been replaced by stale air. It wasn't a particularly unpleasant smell. More like the air had not been refreshed for a long time. He took a deep breath of canned air and tried to clear his head. Obviously, his previous surroundings had been false. The most obvious clue being that he hadn't been a child for years. The one after that was that he hadn't been trying to kill anyone. He couldn't remember what it felt like not to have a target.
'Take your time,' a shade next to him said gently. No, not a shade. His eyes were just foggy.
'Atrum?' Loran asked. His hand mechanically went for his knives.
'Yes, but a dead one,' the memory of Felix said. 'You may remember watching it.'
Loran pushed himself up in a sitting position, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. He steadied himself against the wall until the room stopped moving.
'That damn memory place,' he growled. 'My head worked perfectly before I got there.'
'I dispute that,' Greyve's voice came from the distance. 'Or I would, if we didn't have more important things to worry about.'
'Yes, like finding me,' Felix said excitedly. 'It shouldn't be hard. I feel the same connection as with Will and Anneliese, except much stronger. More personal.'
Loran blinked his eyes rapidly and managed to focus on Felix.
'Where is your jacket?'
Felix' face fell. Greyve chuckled.
'We have accurately located the individuals Will Haven and Anneliese Nibbs,' OTTO reported. 'In the interest of survival, we recommend making our way towards either one.'
'I don't see why,' Loran said. He started to remember what had happened prior to being hit by concentrated memory. Felix was dead. Voitrach was dead. Gias was dead. And still the game continued. There were no rules left to the contest. It had been organized by a group of previous contestants, who had then started killing this group themselves to move it along. Just last round, two contestants had died, plus one of the organizers. What else could there be done to escape? It seemed this contest was set to continue, no matter what.
'We could meet up with them first, before trying to escape,' Greyve suggested. 'At the very least, it will stop you from getting killed by the first wandering monster we come across.'
'Alright,' Loran said. 'But if they shoot me on sight, it's your fault.'
'What about-?' Felix protested.
'Shut up,' Loran said. He stood, shaking on his legs. 'Is it far?'
'Yes,' OTTO said.
'Fuck.' Loran leaned against the wall. He wasn't going to get very far in this condition. There was nothing to do but hope it would get better.
'Or perhaps you'll get used to it,' Greyve said. 'You got used to us.'
'Don't count on that,' Loran said, glaring at Greyve. 'Next time I meet a therapist, I'll get you removed from my head.'
'Focus on that,' Greyve said, grinning.
Loran nodded, and pushed the open the door into the hallway.
The entire Hezekiah was practically the same, Loran soon found out. All hallways had the same layout: Walls of some unknown type of metal, doors at regular intervals, silent except for his own footfalls and the occasional scream. Without the guidance of the dead contestants, he would've been lost numerous times already.
'So, I was out during our arrival,' he said, after a while of walking in silence. 'Anyone care to brief me?'
'It's a prisonship,' Felix said. 'Mostly intended for torture, I think.'
'That explains the screams, I guess,' Loran said. 'Shouldn't there be guards?'
Someone answered from behind him:
'The Hezekiah guards itself.'
Loran cursed and spun around, knives in his hands. An elderly creature stood in one of the doorways, leaning on a cane. It wasn't any species he had ever encountered, with a scaly yellow exterior and a long snout full of teeth.
'Who were you talking to?' the creature asked gently. It lowered its head somewhat, indicating subservience. Loran relaxed. The guy was afraid of him. He knew how to deal with that.
'My imaginary friends,' he answered, drawing the corners of his mouth upward. The creature shuffled its feet nervously at the display of teeth, and Loran dropped the grin.
'Are we your friends now?' Greyve asked, mockingly flattered. 'Loran, you have no idea how happy this makes me.'
'Correction,' Loran said. 'Imaginary assholes. Who are you?'
'A prisoner,' the creature said, and tittered. 'A smart prisoner. How about you?'
'Neither,' Loran said. 'I'm planning to leave here first chance I get. Doesn't look very hospitable.'
'Oh, that's what they all say, the first time,' the creature said. 'And the second time, and the third time, and every time. Until they stop.'
'What does he mean?' Greyve said. 'Tell him to explain.'
'I...' Loran frowned, gestured at Geyve to go jump off a cliff, and cleared his throat. 'Very well. Explain.'
'Alright, alright,' the creature said, waving Loran into the room. 'Can't hurt, can it?'
Loran let himself be waved in, gripping his knives more tightly. The room was filled with people, fifty or so, but none of them was awake. They were strapped into some sort of beds, connected to cables and machinery. Every now and then, one of them moaned or screamed, and the sound echoed through the chamber. They were the sounds heard throughout the entire ship, coming from these people, and the ones undoubtedly held behind the other doors.
Behind Loran, Felix cursed.
'This place... You've got to be kidding me...'
Light flashed as electricity ran down some of the cables. Ten prisoners screamed in unison. It lasted for a few seconds, and then it stopped. The silence was deafening. The prisoners laid still, like nothing had happened.
The creature led the way to a small table and some stools.
'Don't mind them,' he spoke over his shoulder. 'They are broken beyond repair.'
'In what way?' Loran asked, unable to take his eyes of the display surrounding him. 'Why don't they respond to being hurt? Are they drugged?'
The creature smiled lazily.
'Yes, you are definitely new. Does it shock you so?'
Loran tore his eyes away from the moaning people and glared at the creature.
'I kill people for a living. I'm not shocked easily,' he hesitated, glancing around him. 'But there's something wrong with this, and it feels off. What is going on? Why are these people being tortured and taking it like that?'
'Let me explain to you what life at the Hezekiah is like, youngling,' the creature said, and conjured a teabowl from somewhere. 'Sit down.'
Felix' face lit up.
'Tea! Excellent! Now we're talking!'
Loran sat down and accepted a cup. He didn't drink. The creature sipped its tea thoughtfully, letting its gaze wander over the bound people (some of them screamed as they were electrocuted, others trashed in their bonds for seemingly no reason).
'The Hezekiah is the ultimate punishment,' the creature said. 'It is where the worst scum in the universe is sent. The ones who deserve an eternity of torture, and would still be getting off easily. Mass murderers, terrorists, crazy dictators, free thinkers, conquerers.'
He nodded at that last one, and smiled.
'Yes, those were the times...'He sipped his tea again, and continued. 'There are only a few ships like this in existence in the entire universe. Even an endless number of planets only holds so much irredeemable criminals. The Hezekiah is the biggest, though.'
'How many doors did we pass before we got here?' Greyve asked. 'A few hundred?'
'Threehundredfortyseven,' OTTO answered instantly. 'Including this one.'
'And it was barely a twentieth of the ship. How many prisoners...' Greyve said, then fell silent.
'The prisoners are held in a constant state of both physical and mental torture,' the creature continued. 'It keeps them in a state of pain and fear which is impossibly hard to break through. It takes an immense amount of willpower to break through the mental shroud and become aware of ones surroundings, and even more to stay awake long enough to break free from the physical bonds. They always manage, though. Each new batch of prisoners always includes at least one person who gets free and attempts to escape. In most cases, this happens by freeing the others and staging a rebellion. Either a full-blown one, or a small one, just enough to get some freedom of movement and time to implement plans.'
'So why hasn't anyone escaped?' Loran asked. The creature emtpied its teacup and refilled it.
'Because it's all a game,' it said. 'The Hezekiah is sentient and tracks the movements of everyone inside it. The guards, the crew, the doors and walls, they're all decoys. Things for the prisoners to resist. To make them think they are winning. And when victory seems within their grasp, when they start thinking that maybe, just maybe, this plan might work, the real defenses get activated. Everyone gets put back in their bonds, and the game starts again. Each time, it gets harder to play. Someone breaks free, and knows what happened last time he tried to get away. He's on his guard, doesn't wake everyone, keeps the plan small and simple. And is captured again when he thinks this time will do the trick. Next time, the same thing. And the time after that. And the next one. The game goes on until, one day, after seeing his hopes crushed for the umpteenth time, the prisoner can't summon the willpower anymore to break free of his bonds. And then the game ends. Eternal torture for the player, and the bonedeep knowledge that there is no hope of escape.'
The creature sipped its tea. Loran took the time to look again at the bound people.
'Is that what happened to these people?' he asked.
'Yes,' the creature sighed. 'My group. Tried seven times. Last time was only me and two others. Since then, I'm the only one who manages to break free... I could try to wake them up, but I don't think I would be doing them a favor. They never had my patience. I am content to sit here and enjoy a few weeks of no torture. That is enough of an incentive for me to break free. They, however, would want to try again... I've tried to convince them, 'If you can't live with this situation, just kill yourselves. You're not going to get out'. But they refuse to give up, even though they already have. They just won't admit it to themselves...'
The creature emptied its second cup, and set it down in front of him. Loran looked at his untouched cup, and put it down as well.
'So now you know. You will never escape. Either find yourself a quiet place to enjoy a few moments of peace, or kill yourself now.'
'I'm sorry to crush your philosophy,' Loran said, 'but I have a way out.'
The creature chuckled.
'So be it, then. You will learn the hard way. I was hoping you could keep me company during my spare time.'
Loran stood.
'I thank you for your information,' he said. 'Now that I understand the ship, I may be able to fight it better.'
'You will learn,' the creature said, and for a moment it sounded almost sad. 'At the very least, I can point you to some others.'
It got up and made it's way through the groaning prisoners to a crude map drawn on the wall. By the looks of it, it was one of the Hezekiah's blocks.
'We are here,' the creature said, pointing to a room in the middle of the map. 'Over here is a rebellion going, at the moment. It's not very fresh anymore, and has been going for a few months. The Hezekiah will get them soon, no doubt. If you hurry, you might just catch the tail end of it.'
Loran glanced at the illusions behind him. Greyve nodded.
'Will is somwhere around there.'
'Thank you,' Loran said. The creature shrugged.
'I would wish you good luck, but as it is, I hope the Hezekiah gets you soon. You may see the truth in my words, then, and be able to kill yourself before it's too late.'
'Yes,'Loran said. He was getting a bit uncomfortable around this guy and his talk of killing themselves. 'I will go now, then.'
He could see where the creature was coming from, of course. Su