My eyes snapped open. None of the grogginess of sleep plagued me. I’d closed them when stepping through the shimmering wall, and now my gaze met…stone.

  Beneath me, a white duvet provided a buffer between my body and the stone floor. My head rested on a down pillow. They might’ve been taken from my apartment in Chicago for how similar they felt.

  A shiver arrested me. I really hoped they’d taken that information out of my memories rather than rifling through my things, taking what they thought I’d want in this horrible faux-world.

  I sat up. “Kym?”

  My voice fell flat against the walls, deadened in a way that told me they were solid. Old, too, tracked with water marks to the stone floor, the gray-blue surface interrupted with pockmarks and divots. This didn’t look like something fabricated for the faux-world I’d woken up in. It looked like I’d been stashed in an archaic cell somewhere on Earth. A dungeon, maybe.

  I let out a slow breath to ease the terror and uncertainty threatening to derail me. It was important to keep my head through this. Logic and action would win the day. Panic wouldn’t get me anywhere.

  Standing, I noticed a little glimmer at the corner of the duvet. Another at the corner of the pillow.

  Ignoring that for now, I took three steps to the wall. It felt porous to my touch, cold and solid. Definitely real.

  “Kym?”

  A hush permeated the space, a glaring hint that I was alone.

  My heart picked up pace. I touched the other walls, one at a time. They were all the same until I reached the fourth. It felt strangely hollow, like new construction made out of synthetic materials. It looked like stone but felt like something a theme park might erect for a ride.

  I ran my fingers along it. In the middle, the surface fell away. I stopped and pushed both hands through the space. They didn’t look like they were going through the wall but still reaching out to it. Optical illusion.

  “Sneaky,” I murmured, moving along the rest of the wall. My wrist bumped an edge, and then I had to pull my hands back to trace the rest of the wall. I’d found a doorway. “Very sneaky.”

  Maybe a dungeon, but not a one-room cell.

  They were toying with us.

  After a deep breath, I walked through the “wall.” The sound of water splatting against stone interrupted the soft scuffle of my footsteps. A stone hallway led to a little chamber. In the middle sat a sturdy wood table with ornate legs, a shining surface, and a nineties vibe. A laptop stood open on the table, and as I walked closer, a chair blinked into existence as though an afterthought.

  The metal squeal of the chair legs on stone reverberated around the room. I sat at the computer. It immediately flared to life. One sentence appeared across the monitor.

  Welcome to the [Learning Phase].

  It stayed there, as though waiting for a response.

  It was lucky I didn’t pick the thing up and slam it against the wall.

  After a beat, the sentence drifted away and a new one appeared, typed across the screen like a typewriter.

  Greetings [Human],

  Congratulations! Your civilization has been selected for a comprehensive Viability Assessment conducted by the Core Collective.

  During this exciting process, you will participate in challenges designed to measure adaptability, cooperation, mental resilience, and non-destructive tendencies. Rest assured, these evaluations are a standard component of Interstellar Cohabitation Review Protocol 7.22.

  Your results will directly influence our final determination: Cohabitation Continuation or Planetary Reset and Reseeding.

  We appreciate your cooperation as we work to ensure a productive and sustainable future for all compliant life forms.

  Warm regards,

  The Core Collective

  “Evaluating Tomorrow, Today”

  I stared dumbly at the message before reading it again. And again.

  Then started laughing.

  I laughed so hard I cried, then thought about crying for real.

  This sounded like the bureaucratic bullshit I might expect from the company I worked for. Or countless other companies besides. Hell, it sounded like so many industrialized governments. They’d found something they wanted and decided to take it. But wait, just randomly wiping out another life form—because they were in the way—was cruel! “I know,” some asshole in a suit probably said, “let’s give them a chance to show they are docile enough to accept our hostile takeover. If not? Well…that’s on them. Not our fault. Kill them all.”

  The desire to pick up the computer and throw it against the wall nearly overtook me. My fingers clenched the desk, my nails digging in. But what good would that do? Another computer would probably pop up in its place. The gratification of destruction would only last for a moment, and then I’d be back to feeling helpless.

  Well… I might feel helpless, but I wasn’t hopeless. We didn’t have the technology they did, fine, but given the nature of this bullshit message, we probably had a lot more in common as a species. They probably had a big computer running this whole thing—some sort of self-sufficient AI—monitored by a small, overworked, underpaid staff while the dicks in charge pocketed all the earnings. There’d be holes in this system, I bet. There’d be pockets to exploit. There had to be. I just had to find someone who knew enough about computers to find it.

  Clinging to this lofty goal that may or may not be possible, I stared at the screen and waited for more.

  Nothing came.

  Helplessness turned to anger, beating a drum in my body. I bent over the desk, leaning heavily on my forearms. Deep breaths didn’t relieve it.

  “Hell with it.”

  I stood, grabbed the computer, and threw it at the wall with all my strength. It clacked against the stone, bounced, and skittered across the ground. When it stilled, it was still open, completely unharmed, with the screen pointed at me. The message from before had been replaced.

  Off to a rocky start.

  I barked out laughter, pushed back tears, put my hands on my hips, and turned away for a moment. Okay, then. This place would withstand blunt violence. In fact, violence was exactly what they were hoping for, the wilder, the better. It would give them license to kill us all and take our stuff.

  This was a computer. It relied on cold logic. Unfeeling emotion. It had to if it was happily creating faux-worlds with the intent of annihilating us.

  Fine. I could do that. To win, I would do that.

  “Your brothers are bigger than you, kid,” Granddad had said once.

  I’d just been beaten at basketball by Max, one of my brothers, forfeiting my ability to play with them any more that day. Granddad found me in a corner, crying and licking my wounds.

  “They’re bigger. They’re stronger. They’re faster. They know how to use their hands and feet at the same time.”

  “So?” I’d spat, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “I beat them sometimes! I just got unlucky, is all.”

  He’d held up a gnarled finger. “You get smart and choose a good team to stand against them sometimes. Or you ambush them. One on one, you’re going to lose, squirt. You know that. They know that. They aren’t playing fair. You have to stop playing fair, too. Cheat to win, squirt. Cheat to win. That’s the only way.”

  I grinned, belatedly realizing my cheeks were wet with tears.

  Cheat to win.

  I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

  No problem. I had a lot of practice. I’d taken Granddad’s pep talk to heart that day. I still cheated when playing with my brothers, and we were all more or less even now. I was a leg up on most of them athletically at this point, even. Didn’t care. Cheat to win, in Granddad’s memory.

  “Okay, then.” I took a deep breath and retrieved the computer. I put it back on the table where it was. Start over.

  I examined the walls in this room. All of them felt like thick, solid stone. Whatever I was supposed to do next was not in here. And I was supposed to do something. I was in the “learning phase.” They were leaving me clues and it was my job to figure out what came next.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Nothing had changed in the hall. At the door to the first room, I saw that it was no longer an optical illusion. I’d figured it out, so there was no more trickery.

  Was I entertainment for some hidden-camera reality TV show or something? Why all the theatrics? Why not just tell me what I needed to know?

  In the first room, nothing had changed. The bedding was where I’d left it. A little shimmer still pulsed on the corner of each item.

  A shimmer like the wall I’d stepped through with Kym. Ah.

  I bent to the duvet and ran my hand through that shimmer.

  The item disappeared and a translucent screen popped up in front of me, hovering in the air.

  Startled, I jolted backward. It came with me, a little less than an arm’s distance away. Cloudy white squares spread evenly across the window, as though empty slots. The word Inventory was written at the top, and little icons below that indicated tabs. Right now, the little satchel icon was lit up.

  What was this, some sort of VR screen or something?

  I tentatively reached out and touched the shirt icon. A new tab opened. This one had two spaces filled—my boxer briefs and sports bra, each outlined in black. Because I was wearing them, obviously.

  I clicked on the briefs and a few stats showed in a column at the side. Defense, durability, elemental protection. I squinted at the last one. Dignity? Really?

  They were all at one except for the last, which was at zero. It was probably a joke.

  I still didn’t get the humor. I was too mad for that.

  Wait until I got even, though. Then I’d laugh all day long.

  Trying to calm the rage that had taken over my uncertainty—I really wanted to go into the other room and try to break that computer again—I read the description of the briefs.

  [Unenchanted Garment of Shame - pants]

  While it might not protect against sand, since that stuff gets everywhere, the starting garb of the weak will keep dirt from collecting in your cracks, as well as containing your bits, while running from predators. Because let’s face it, at this level, only a fool would stay and fight.

  Not even death shall keep thee from chafing. Wear under armor for comfort or an extra layer of warmth in cold climates.

  It can only go up from here.

  Starting garb of the weak…

  It can only go up from here…

  More clues to the game. The goal was to get better and better stuff. That would help us beat this thing.

  How? Big, open-ended question.

  I looked at the pillow with the shimmering edge. Clearly, that meant “put this in your inventory.”

  I ran my hand through it. It disappeared from the ground and reappeared in my screen as a cartoon symbol under the icon for “satchel.”

  [Fluffy Faux-Down Pillow]

  When you can’t afford a pillow with real goose feathers. Unless, of course, you are for some reason protecting the most notoriously cantankerous creature on the face of the Earth. In which case, one wonders if your poor decision making will work against you when faced with the challenges ahead.

  Lay down your weary head or smother thy enemy.

  A grin worked at my lips in horrified hilarity. I had bought a faux-down pillow to protect a cantankerous creature. What could I say, I got where geese were coming from. I was often a cantankerous creature myself. I could relate.

  I eyed the screen. On impulse, I ran my hand through the air, as though wiping it away. As hoped, it disappeared.

  An almost indistinct plus appeared in the top right of my vision.

  I brought my hand up and tapped it. The screen pulled up again.

  A wave of claustrophobia overcame me, the feeling of being trapped constricting my chest and making it hard to breathe. My body tingled with fear and unspent adrenaline at the thought of something foreign lodged in my brain, seeing through my eyes and reacting to my thoughts.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath, then another, to slow my rampaging heart.

  This situation was a nightmare. Alien invasion, abduction, and now a computerized hitchhiker sitting in my thoughts monitoring my progress. I didn’t know what actual day it was, but I was calling it a Monday, and it was the worst Monday in the history of Mondays. The only upside was that I wasn’t being probed.

  Knock on wood.

  I really wished Kym were here.

  It was the last thought that stilled me. She was here. Somewhere. She was in the same predicament but without the terrible temper. She was expecting me to find her.

  I straightened and opened my eyes, once again wiping wet cheeks. I could do this. This place would not break me. It would not force me to show the worst of human nature. I would triumph over this.

  I wiped my hand through the air and was gratified to see the screen disappear again. A poke to the plus button and it was back. As long as I didn’t think too in depth about my head being hooked up to a computer, it was easy.

  “Super easy,” I grumbled to myself.

  Something popped, the sound reverberating through the space. Nothing in the room had changed.

  In the outer room, the desk and laptop were now gone, and a crack had formed in the stone wall. Upon further inspection, part of the wall stuck out, like the edge of a door that was ajar. The problem was that nothing else seemed like a door. No handle, no hinges, the top didn’t look the same as the side.

  “Is this a trick or a design flaw?” I murmured, grabbing the edge with claw-like fingers and prying it open. The nonexistent hinges groaned, and it opened in the way doors typically didn’t, half levitating and half wobbling. Someone was not clear on the mechanics of an actual door. Still no hinges. Nothing actually holding the thing in place, yet it didn’t tumble out.

  “Design flaw,” I affirmed. “Study a door, bro.”

  A beautiful green tableau greeted me when I stepped outside, similar to the field I’d found myself in upon arrival. Trees swayed in a breeze I couldn’t feel, while nearby, scraggly bushes danced to a different tune.

  “Someone really should’ve done a little research before slapping this place together, hmm?”

  The door swung shut behind me, clipping me on the butt.

  I stumbled forward, reaching back to rub the offending spot, and froze.

  The building I’d just walked out of looked like a little hut with a grass roof, a smoking fireplace, windows, and a complete disregard for the dungeon-esque interior.

  I tried the metal handle of the—now-wood—door and recoiled. The texture felt soft and porous, like a sponge.

  “What is the issue with doors here?” I mumbled, wiping the palm of my hand.

  When I tried again, the handle didn’t turn. Nonetheless, the door swung open to reveal the stone interior whence I’d come, which in no way matched the exterior of this tiny but cute little dwelling. At least I wasn’t locked out of shelter.

  The temperature hadn’t changed, still temperate and pleasant. The grass beneath my bare feet was soft, free of hidden rocks or briars or Lego that might cripple me. Above, the sky stretched a clear, azure blue, dotted with the same style clouds I’d seen in the field. The design and makeup of the world hadn’t changed.

  Now what?

  The stone room had wanted me to interact with it. If that was step one, then step two would be interacting with the world at large. Right?

  “A manual would really be great,” I mumbled, starting forward. “I can learn by reading much easier than wandering around like an idiot, hoping for the best. Take a hint.”

  The ground cushioned my feet like velvet. It didn’t have individual blades. I stopped and yanked up a clump before opening my inventory and trying to feed it in. My hand passed uselessly through the screen.

  Grass was a no-go for the inventory. Fine.

  Tree bark felt like tree bark and a scraggly bush felt like a scraggly bush. The design team had gotten those elements correct.

  At a little bluff, a dirt path led away to the right.

  Despite the appearance of little pebbles on the dirt path, the texture felt similar to the grass. Barefootin’ it wasn’t a problem, which was clearly by design, since they hadn’t given us any shoes.

  Nothing changed in the landscape as I walked. I wondered if I was visible to people or, like in the field, I had to cross an arbitrary line before I appeared to anyone else.

  A decent-sized rock waited on the side of the path, the first of its kind.

  I paused beside it. It was too big to quickly pick up and throw at a toad monster, but what if I had the drop on the enemy? Wile E. Coyote had taught me that rocks, anvils, or even pianos could do the job. I’d just have to get the timing right, something the coyote never seemed to manage.

  I bent to lift it so I could shove it into my inventory. Before I got far, two things happened at once. A glitter caught my eye before a loud, zipper-like sound announced something shooting right at my face.

  My heart jumped into my throat, and I jerked back, swinging my hands to ward the projectile away. Something hit my face, and I shrieked. My flailing hand hit the object and swatted it in front of me. My screen popped up, unbidden, and a crunch signaled something flying into it.

  Panting, heart racing, I stared at the cartoon object now safely stowed in my “pantry.”

  [Locust of Wisdom - grasshopper]

  Behold, the oracle of weeds, the destroyer of gardens, the hopper of smug. This green garden goblin is renowned across the land for dispensing life-altering truths, such as “sunlight is nice” and “eat grass.” The latter can also be used for a cutting remark. Scholars insist this nemesis of turf is wise. Farmers insist it is lunch.

  Cook it up crispy and take it with you on a stick. It’ll increase your hop.

  I really hoped it wouldn’t come to that. I knew various cultures treated these little buggers as snacks, but I hadn’t walked down that road yet, and I didn’t want to start now. Some people couldn’t handle spiders or snakes, but for me it was insects. Their looks, their crazy eyes, their antennae—not to mention they jumped around willy-nilly and flew at you when you least expected it. This had been a classic example. The designers might’ve misunderstood doors, but they’d gotten the gist of these spindly menaces. The whole idea of them revolted me. All of them, even the pretty ones, like dragonflies and ladybugs and butterflies. No, thank you.

  I nudged the rock with my foot, then bent to lift it. Nothing jumped out this time.

  I held it out to my screen like an offering. Nothing happened.

  “No rocks, either, huh?” I pulled my lips to the side while dropping it.

  It belatedly dawned on me that the bed stuff and the grasshopper had kinda twinkled. The grass and rock had not. They’d given a very obvious hint and I’d missed it. I needed to be faster about putting two and two together.

  The next sparkle I found was under a tree. I bent to retrieve a stick. Its description popped up on my screen, no clever title for this one.

  [Stick]

  A fallen branch from an ordinary tree that can be fashioned into a weapon if you swing it really, really hard. Knowing you, however, you’ll toss it aside and run at the first sign of danger.

  Many epic journeys begin with a single step. Yours starts with a stick you probably tripped over.

  Like my outfit, weapons had stats—attack, durability again, elemental affinity, and then a couple things I didn’t understand. What was a sentience mood? Or a random proc?

  Regardless, they were all ones and zeroes. I was at the bottom of the power scale, and I had the stats to prove it.

  The sun continued to move, sinking toward the horizon, which was absurd. I’d only been out wandering around for an hour, two tops. Their time scale moved abnormally fast. Unless this mimicked their home planet.

  At least this place showed the passing of time. That was probably good news for mental health.

  I stopped on the path and glanced back toward the hut-turned-stone-bunker. I’d never make it back in time. It’d taken me half a “day” to get this far. If I started back now, it would be nearly midnight by the time I got there. What was the point? It was shelter, but the temperature hadn’t dropped even a degree. I wasn’t hungry or tired, and even if I were either of those things, I had the bedding with me and didn’t have anything with which to build a fire. Or to eat. I did not count that grasshopper.

  The shelter wouldn’t help me much.

  Come to think of it, I hadn’t had to pee this whole time, either. No coffee, no water, no cravings for either. That was strange but welcome, since I didn’t have any of those things.

  Before I could decide what to do, I heard a strange shuffling sound.

  Thinking of the toad monster, I held out my stick. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do. I tiptoed to a tree that was roughly four feet at the base and peered around it.

  The path ended at a circular clearing. Slim trees pushed to the outskirts and dirt covered the ground. A merry fire burned in the middle, with a couple of big logs set up as seats.

  One log was occupied, and the lone figure’s back was to me. The sun was descending, casting him in shadow, but given his wrinkly, loose skin and aged hunch, he was an older man.

  He stared stoically into the crackling flames, probably tired after wandering around, learning this strange new world like I was. His brown comb-over swept across his scalp. He wore a yellow dress shirt with mustard polka dots and a brown belt cinching maroon pants with dark blue checkered lines. He must’ve figured out how to get clothes, somehow.

  I stepped out from around the tree. We could see each other—it meant we weren’t hidden. I was discoverable and so was Kym. I just had to find her.

  I walked toward him, having forgotten to put away my stick. It was probably fine, though. He wouldn’t begrudge a half-naked woman a little protection, I was sure.

  As I neared him, I checked the ground around him for weapons. Couldn’t be too careful.

  Hearing my approach, he slowly turned toward me, and his face came into full view.

  “Oh, holy Jesus, that is not a man!”