Skye is the Limit by Phenomenal Pen (best ebook reader ubuntu .TXT) 📖

“You named her?” the Count said disapprovingly.   

Nethril opened her mouth to explain herself but noticed a figure rising mutely behind the boys. She figured she was looking at Mage, or at least someone that looked like him.

He still wore his hooded robe but now the garment was in tatters and hung like some recycled cape on his back. He wore a gray shirt with knitted sleeves and very wide pants that resembled culottes. Overall, he gave off an aura of scavengery.

He didn’t seem to need his walking staff anymore because it was nowhere to be found. Instead, both his bare feet below the wide pants had been mechanized and looked gaunt, almost skeletal. But unlike the Orc Mother’s steampunk, insectile appendages, his were completely shaped like human feet and suggested a much more advanced era of technology; the twenty-first century or even beyond. 

His hands beyond the knitted sleeves and some portion of his face seemed to have been cybernetically altered too. The second was evidenced by a laser-sight glow from his left eye, seething in the depth of his hood.       

Nethril involuntarily took a step back.

“Who are you?” she shouted.

The boys followed her gaze and jumped to their feet. 

“Peace, Dreamwalkers. My current code name is Prophet,” the newcomer introduced himself. He spoke in rapid bursts and a slight monotone.

“What have you done with Mage?” Bear Tooth asked, spotting his battle axe in his peripheral vision.

“Ah, Mage, yes,” Prophet said. “I am aware that this was the name I previously went by. From this point forward, you should think of Mage as an older, less reliable model that needed to be replaced. But rest assured that all his memory and personality have been transferred successfully to me.”

“If what you’re saying is true,” Man-At-Arms said with uncharacteristic suspicion, “explain to us why we’re all back at the Save Point. What time is it?” 

“Incisive logic, Man-At-Arms. Indeed it has been 6 hours 11 minutes and 4 seconds since you first entered SKYE.”

“Six hours and…” the Count echoed. “That means…”

“Yes! We’ve run out the clock!” Bear Tooth cheered and jumped, repeating the unique victory dance he did when they defeated the fire Nidhoggr in the eighth spawning.

He stopped abruptly. “Uh… why are we still here?”

“Fairy expired,” Prophet answered curtly.

“So? Where is she?” Man-At-Arms asked. “Is she flying above us?”

The Dreamwalkers all looked up to scan the artic-blue sky.

“You do not understand,” Prophet said. “Fairy’s avatar-driver expired in the physical world.” 

Everyone did a double take.

“You’re joking, right?” Man-At-Arms asked.

“Much as I desire to acquire a human’s comedic sense, my current iteration is yet to be enabled for it.”

“How did that happen?” Nethril’s voice broke at the end of the question. Her mind raced at the ramifications of the news.

“She has been suffering from intracerebral hemorrhaging through the quest. The Dream-maker, Alexander Chase, opted not to inform you of this for fear of damaging your morale. Presently, Fairy’s avatar-driver lies in a comatose state.”

Shocked silence from the Dreamwalkers. The Count was the first to break it:

“What does this mean for all of us?” 

“As this is an unprecedented development, it is challenging to calculate the new parameters. But the foremost side effect is the prevention of your exit via predetermined means.”

Bear Tooth’s brow furrowed.

“What does that mean?” he whined. “What is he saying? I don’t understand a word he’s saying.”

“He said…” Man-At-Arms explained, his face grave and his eyes dark. “We can’t leave SKYE.”

“WHAT? WHY?” Bear Tooth asked but it was more of a rhetorical question. He was on the verge of crying.

“It is item no. 5 of the Dream Rules,” Prophet answered impersonally. “First In First Out. Otherwise known as FIFO. Fairy is the Nightcrawler and thus she held the key to everyone’s release.”

“That doesn’t make any sense…” Nethril mumbled, her head bowed.

She was still struggling to digest the unexpected turn of events. Ollie the Cougher, telepathically feeling her dread, crawled in a slithery manner across her nape to her right shoulder.

“The sedative that they injected us back in… back…” Nethril attempted to remember her life outside of SKYE but failed. “The effects of that drug were only supposed to last for a maximum of six hours… right?”

“That is accurate, Nethril,” Prophet said. “The Omni Systems executives made an emergency decision to inject another dose of Dimethyltryptamine into your sleeping bodies.”

“WHAT?” Bear Tooth wailed. “This is crazy!”

“A body cannot exist without the mind. Unplugging your bodies from the sim-beds in your current state would be equivalent to killing all of you.”