Chapter Text
-Youth by Daughter-
02:43 ━━━━●───── 04:23
The alarm went off at four AM. I had been preparing all week for this, and planning months in advance. Obviously, it wasn’t that hard to run from people who didn't really care where you went or what you did, but this time, I was going to disappear for good. I had it all mapped out, on my bedroom floor. I know, I know. It's not smart to lay out your entire escape plan on your bedroom floor, for anyone to walk into, but Ms. Bishop never comes upstairs anyway, and her husband is in China for something. I don't remember what his job was, but whatever, it didn't matter.
I roll out of bed and pull my cargo pants off the floor and up my legs. They’re still too big for me, they were my sisters, before she went to college. I struggle against my black tank top, which is really tight, but not organ squeezing tight. It’s the hard to put on, but still fits perfectly kind of tight. I don’t like how cropped it is, but it’s still important to look fashionable while running away.
It’s not cold, it’s never cold, actually, in Austin. Sometimes there’s a chill in the early winter mornings, but honestly, I’ll be walking through downtown in December, and there are people running shirtless and stuff. It hasn’t gone below 30* in like, five years. Regardless, I pull on my sister's jacket, which is once again, too big. This one is really too big though, because it wasn’t meant as a hand me down. She left it before she went to UCLA for school, and I think she meant to pack it, because it's a super cool jacket, but I'm glad she didn't, because now it’s mine until further notice.
I almost lose my finger trying to slip my feet into my converse without untying them, and I blow on my now furiously red, tingly finger. I pad into the garage and take a crowbar from the tangle of junk pressed up against the dusty wood walls. I’m not stupid, and so I'm not venturing out into the city at four AM unarmed. One time, when I ran away, some creep followed me all the way to a police station. It wasn’t very smart to go to the police station, because they didn’t even do anything about the man following me, just put me right back into foster care.
I don’t want to linger on that though. I’m not going back this time, and I won’t get caught. This time, I’m going to find a way out, and I'm going to finally be free. I pull out my phone and connect my airpods. In addition to not being stupid, I'm also not about to bore myself to death. I, of course, made a playlist before I left. I pocket my phone as the music starts to play, and make sure to close the door very quietly.
I haven’t been walking for very long when I get to the green belt.
My dad used to take me on walks through here. Or we’d bike down the rocky paths. Sometimes we’d wander down to Barton Springs, or one of the millions of creeks connecting to the springs, and he’d let me swim.
This little path I take is familiar, I fell countless times and scraped my knees on the jagged sandstone here while biking. I wasn’t a good biker. Not because I had bad balance or anything, just because I gave up around the sixth time I fell onto a rock. Don’t blame me, it hurt like hell okay? Or at least, eight year old me thought it did.
My feet stumble every now and then. The rocks here are loose, and jagged, and because I don’t feel like scraping my knee again, I divert to a smoother path.
I ran away on a Tuesday on purpose. Mostly so I could miss school. Listen, Westlake High School wasn’t an awful place, but man, it gets really old without any close friends. Don’t get me wrong, I'm not a loner, not the kind you see eating by themselves at a cafeteria table with their hood up everyday. I’m not even alone, but I’m not popular either, just one of those kids who everyone knows, but only has one or two close friends. You know the type. In fact, it was more like one close friend, because I don’t count my boyfriend.
Anyway, the second reason I ran away on a Tuesday was because Ms Bishop will assume I’m already at school when she wakes up, and on Tuesdays, I have rehearsal until 6 PM, which means I get home around 6:30 PM. That gives me more than twelve hours before anyone knows I’m gone, plus, isn’t there a rule that you can’t report a missing person for an additional 48 hours? That gives me enough time for sure.
My bus out of Austin would leave for Fredericksburg, at 4:45 AM. Currently, it was 4:20 AM, I would have to pick up my pace to get to that bus in time. If I didn’t catch my bus, it was almost inevitable the sheriff would find me, and take me back to foster care for the second time this year. And it was still January.
I let the long grass that frames this narrow path trace over my palm as I walk, holding my arm out to feel the breeze.
That’s when it happens.
A male, robotic voice, speaks in my mind. He reminds me of my Australian man version of Siri, but this voice is nowhere near as saucy.
It spoke in my mind, but not in that really cool telepathy way you see in fiction, this was more like an itch. It was itchy. I started to paw at my head, kind of like how a dog does when it gets a headache.
“Surviving humans take note.”
“What.” I said out loud, looking around. What is this? Am I going crazy? Did those drugs Jessica convinced me to snort behind Casa De Luz finally catch up to me? I was always told not to take drugs, and now the karma had caught up. I was going crazy.
I bump my palm into the side of my head, trying to clear the itch. It doesn’t work. I look up and see words floating in front of me.
“What the hell?”
The note says the same thing the voice said, it reads: Surviving humans take note.
I am totally hallucinating right now. The drugs made me hallucinate. Maybe I've even passed out, and this is a dream. When I wake up, I will for sure be in some sort of mental institute, like my mom. My therapist said she thought it was a good idea for me to “seek help from psychologists at a ward,” due to my troubling activities, such as the drug snorting they would find out about when they found my body passed out in the middle of a nature preserve.
The voice continues.
“Per Syndicate rules, subsection 543 of the Precious Elemental Reserves Code, having failed to file a proper appeal for mineral and elemental rights within 50 Solars of first contact, your planet has been successfully seized and is currently being mined of all requested elemental deposits by the assigned planetary regent.
Every interior of your world has been crushed and all raw materials—organic and inanimate—are in the process of being mined for the requested elements.
Per the Mined Material Reclamation act along with subsection 35 of the Indigenous Planetary Species Protection Act, any surviving humans will be given the opportunity to reclaim their lost matter. The Borant Corporation, having been assigned regency over this solar system, is allowed to choose the manner of this reclamation, and they have chosen option 3, also known as the 18-Level World Dungeon. The Borant Corporation retains all rights to broadcast, exploit, and otherwise control all aspects of the World Dungeon and will remain in control as long as they adhere to Syndicate regulations regarding world resource reclamation.
Upon successful completion of level 18 of the World Dungeon, regency of this planet will revert to the successor.
A Syndicate neutral observer AI—myself—has been created and dispatched to this planet to supervise the creation of the World Dungeon and to ensure all the rules and regulations are properly followed.
Please pay careful attention to the following information as it will not be repeated.
Per the Indigenous Planetary Species Protection Act, all remaining materials—estimated to be 99.999999% of the sifted matter—is currently being repurposed for the subterranean World Dungeon. The first level of this dungeon will open approximately 18 seconds after the end of this announcement. The first-level entrances will be open for exactly one human hour and one hour only. Once the entrances are closed, you may no longer enter. If you enter, you may not leave until you have either completed all 18 levels of the World Dungeon or if you meet certain other requirements.
If you choose not to enter the World Dungeon, you will have to sustain yourself upon the surface of your planet, and this may be the last communication you receive during your lifetime. All previously-processed matter and elements are forfeit. However, you are free to mine and utilize any remaining and naturally-occurring resources for your own benefit. The Borant Corporation wishes you luck and thanks you for the opportunity.
For those who wish to exercise their right of resource reclamation, please take note.
There will be 150,000 level-one entrances added to the world. These entrances will be marked and easy to spot. If you so choose to enter the first level of the dungeon, you will have five rotations of your planet to find the next level down. There will be 75,000 entrances to level two. There will be 37,500 entrances to level three. 18,750 to level 4. 9,375 entrances to level 5 and 4,688 entrances to level 6. The number of available entrances to the next lower level will continue to decrease by half, rounding up until the 18th level, which will only have two entrances and a single exit.
Crawlers who choose to enter the World Dungeon must find a staircase and descend to the next level down before the allotted time is up for that level. Once the time has passed, the level will be reclaimed and all remaining matter in the level, organic and inanimate, will be forfeit. Generated loot and other matter that is not gathered and claimed may be placed in the Syndicate market.
Each lower level will have a longer period of reclamation. Additional rules come into play once any crawlers descend to the tenth floor. These rules will be explained when and if any crawlers reach this level.
If you so choose to enter the World Dungeon, it is highly recommended you immediately find and utilize a tutorial guild. Multiple tutorial guilds will be seeded throughout the dungeon on levels 1 through 3.
If you have any additional questions, or you wish to file an appeal, such requests must be submitted in writing directly to the closest Syndicate office.
Thank you for being a part of the Syndicate. Have a great day.”
This message also appeared in scrolling text before me. What the absolute hell?
Well, I think, If this is a hallucination, it’d make a good movie or book or something. But, since it’s just a hallucination, I’d better keep walking, I wouldn’t want to miss my bus. I check the time on my phone, 4:23 AM. I still have enough time.
I’ve been walking for about ten minutes when the green belt ends, and I emerge where there’s supposed to be the whole city of Austin.
Nothing.
I do a double take. I must’ve taken a wrong turn, obviously, but the greenbelt was surrounded by Austin, there was no way I could pop out onto an empty road and a barren plane of concrete that stretched forever, because this place, I knew like the back of my hand. It was surrounded by neighborhoods, cul de sacs, and the never sleeping city. This was not possible. Since it was not possible, I deemed it as part of my hallucination. I didn’t think weed made people hallucinate, but I also didn’t look up side effects or anything.
I see a light, in the darkness.
I’m not stupid, so no way in hell am I walking towards it. I’ve seen those tiktoks about liminal spaces, that whole pick a door thing. I know, obviously, this is not an entrance into the backrooms (probably), but it could totally be some other liminal space. Like one of those weird abandoned malls, or overly saturated kids play places, or those creepy suburban neighborhoods where every single house was the exact same, except it’s empty.
I do the only reasonable thing, and walk in the exact opposite direction.
I’m walking through the woods of the greenbelt, when I fall.
I fall a very long way, until I land on my ass in a warm, like really warm, hallway. I look up, I totally skipped the stairs, and fell straight into this hole. I get up, and try to leave, because like I said, no way in hell am I going to my 100% guaranteed death, or at the very least, my scary, traumatic doom.
But I can’t walk back up the stairs. I can’t leave, something won’t let me.
This staircase is huge. It’s wide, made to accommodate lots of people. I try walking up the stairs, at the opposite corner of the entrance. Stupid, I know, but it’s better than going into this… what, a dungeon? Yeah, no. I’m not going into said dungeon.
My phone reads 5:00 AM. Wow, are hallucinations meant to last this long? I turn, finally, to face the door. My heart is hammering against my ribs, but I tell myself to calm down, it’s not like this is real.
The walls are carved with some very big, scary, fish demons. I walk a little closer to the fish demon carvings, and my brain gets that itch again, the one that drives me mad. This itch better not become a regular thing.
A little box pops up in my vision, and I bat at it. Ew. But, then I realized, yo, a box just appeared, and then disappeared. Weird. I try again, approaching the carving, and the box pops up again, this time I don’t swat at it.
“This is a rendition of a Kua-Tin, the dominant species of the Borant System and principal owners of the Borant Corporation. Make sure you recognize these guys. There’ll be a test later.”
Well, I didn’t really retain that fully, so I’m probably going to fail this test.
I turn to look at the doors.
Might as well make this an interesting hallucination, one I could write about, and get rich off of, like JK Rowling.
I open the doors.