It crashed to the ground and exploded like a frag grenade, pieces of pink eggshell flying through the room at high velocity. Some of them stung Peter as the tiny projectiles hit their chest. Instinctively they threw up their hand to protect their eyes, even though the moment of impact had already passed. After half a cycle had passed they slowly lowered their arms and looked at the object that now stood on the floor.
The thief couldn’t believe their eyes. There, on the marble stone, stood a miniature plane. It was one of those light ones, Peter saw. A single-engine, high-wing aircraft, perfectly replicated to the last detail. Curiosity made Peter kneel down to inspect it a bit further, but the toy plane started changing as soon as they did.
At first, the difference was almost imperceptible; its tiny wings started quivering slightly.
“Hey, it’s moving,” they said and looked up at Gertie.
Only Gertie wasn’t there anymore. “What? Where. . . argh!” Peter exclaimed as they were suddenly pushed back by a rapidly expanding aircraft. They hastily retreated on all fours trying to keep out of reach of the object. They failed. Caught between the rudder and vertical stabilizer, Peter was picked up and forcefully shoved against the wall. The impact expelled the air from their lungs, leaving them gasping and stuck, unable to move.
Looking down from the hole, Gertie started cackling with apparent laughter, “Puk puk puuuuuuuuk puk puk puk.”
“She is laughing at you,” Bitty stated the obvious.
Still gasping, Peter responded, “I can see that. Very funny. You can help me out of here now.”
“Yeah,” The Overseer drawled, “I could.” Then she joined in Gertie’s laughter and replaced the fake stone, disappearing out of sight.
‘Great. How am I going to get out of here now?’ they thought, trying to wiggle themselves free. Peter still couldn’t believe it. Everything had been going so well; they had held the egg in their hands.
But luckily, not all was lost. They had seen something; something which the Overseer surely had not meant to show. Peter remembered seeing a tiny vial suspended on a golden necklace around Bitty’s neck. Now there was information worth going through this trouble for. Next time, they would get it.
“This here is Diana. Her favorite food is. . . well, anything I give her, really. And if any of you decide to become trouble, I might just give you to my little princess here.” Rex said while scratching the large animal’s eyebrow ridge vigorously. As he did so, Diana’s left leg lifted up and started moving spastically with enjoyment.
Despite his anger, Dent had to stifle a laugh as he watched this strange scene play out in front of him. The colossal dino, reduced to an object of mirth by its similarities to the ordinary canine.
Dent found himself on a battlefield, his HUD telling him that there was a group of defenders nearby.
He called up his Macro-Nav and scrolled through countless locked options, passing over grey text and moving images until his eyes spotted a highlighted one entitled “BOOM.” As he contemplated, explosions shook the ground around him. His fellow Faction members fell by the scores. Dent knew that they didn’t actually die, that his friends would just wake up in the Hub. They’d be a little shaken and lacking HP, but alive. Despite this fact, the sight was still terrible to see.
He activated his skill, moving his arm behind his back and opening his hand. A bright ball of fire formed just above his palm, its flickering light casting shadows despite the sun glaring down onto the arena. He twisted his hips and with a powerful motion used his body to create momentum, throwing the fireball with all his might.
It flew in a high arch, falling down among the defenders and igniting on impact. As the sound of destruction reached his ears, the defenders’ colorful blips on his HUD blinked out.
Terrified, Dent watched as the Cube started to collapse into itself, then expand again. Its previously smooth sides broke into a million tiny parts, each rapidly gliding across the surface, bobbing and weaving among each other. Electricity crackled and blasted through the enormous structure, binding each individual segment to the ones around it, forming a grid of interlocking bonds that acted as the confines of the cube.
Suddenly a loud voice blasted from everywhere and nowhere. Its intensity shook those who heard it, bringing with it an instinctual fear. This voice did not belong to one of them, but to the God of the Space.
BLANK’s words could not be drowned out, nor could you choose not to listen. It was a force, penetrating thoughts and paralyzing bodies.