Milo slowly became aware that something was wrong. His pod was dark and he couldn't open the lid. He pushed against the smooth, curved surface but could find no seam, no hinges. This wasn't his pod. He was still in the game. It was hard to think, the bite at that cheese shop hadn't eliminated his cravings. The thought of the cheese shop brought back the memory of hearing someone cast a spell. Had he passed out right after that? Had someone captured him and thown him in a dark cell?

He concentrated, ignoring his weakness, and cravings for cheese. Step 1: Get out of here. Step 2: Find cheese.

He stretched, exploring where he was. This wasn't a cylindrical pod, it was a sphere, with a radius just big enough to accommodate him if he stood up. He pressed as hard as he could against the sides, but that only caused him pain. His arms and legs ached with the strain, his joints protesting.

He tried again, this time pressing with just one claw. He felt like he was making an indentation, and then he saw something: small lines were radiating out from where his claw pushed on his prison. Little lines of silver. He looked closer, and could see the lines were really writing of some kind. He saw what might be numbers or symbols, strings of them repeating over and over along each line. He pressed elsewhere, and with multiple claws. Each time, if he pushed hard enough, he saw bits and pieces. Was he seeing something through a crack in his prison?

Going with the idea that he was cracking his prison wall, he put both hands on the wall with his claws as close together as he could. He pushed until he felt the wall bend and saw the lighted script. And then he pulled hard to widen the gap.

With a terrifying rip, the black wall parted, leaving him pushing against the wall to either side and trying desperately not to fall through into the space beyond.

There was nothing there.

There was everything there.

His eyes were blind, seeing nothing but black. But somehow, he could sense the streamers of information that poured across his senses. Long steams of information. Gossamer webs of magic. He didn't know what it was. He could only watch, and try to memorize the symbols. He reached out his hand, while bracing with his tail, remaining hand, and both legs. He closed his eyes. There was too much here, just like the open sky in the tutorial. He was getting dizzy thinking of it.

His hand grabbed something. Most of the streams cut through his flesh as if it wasn't there, or eluded his grasp. But a few he caught and held for an instant before he collapsed back into the split shell of his prison. He saw in his mind's eye again the void in his soul, now filled partially by a snarled mass of glowing strands.

His prison began is shatter, and once again he passe out.

=*=

"You, sir, are an annoying piece of gutter trash. Were you trying to escape your cage? Clawing like some animal at the shell? Well, it worked! You ruined a perfectly good, re-usable spatial sphere. I shall have to craft another one now."

"Did you consider that before you started mindlessly clawing at the walls? Inconsiderate of you. If you had waited but another hour, I would have had your new home ready for you. But now I have to hurry my work, and that means you, my little rat, will have to suffer. It breaks my heart to hurt some little furry animal, but you brought it on yourself."

Milo couldn't move. He was ill, his stomach was churning, hungry and wanting cheese at the same time. His limbs wouldn't obey his orders at all, and someone was yelling at him.

Something went 'click' and he felt cold metal on his neck.

"One job done. That should keep you quiet and prevent any embarrassment from a failed attempt at escape."

Some feeling was coming back to his limbs. He realized he was laying on some sort of table. Struggling to get up, he found he was restrained.

"Stay still. If you move and ruin one of the runes, I'll just have to do another set. It wastes both my time and your skin. I pride myself as being something of an artist with my runes, and I dearly hate to be embarrassed by a bad job."

Horrified, Milo saw someone step up to him with a heated metal tool. The tip went to a sharp point. A hand went to his chest, forcing him to be still, some effect paralyzing him again. The hot metal was used delicately to draw a set of figures on his chest. Then the tool was set aside and the burn was doused in a foul-smelling liquid which numbed the pain.

His restraints were released. "M1, M2. Prisoner to Cage 3. Lock and secure. End."

Milo felt hands on either side of him grab his collar. He was dragged, still paralyzed along the floor. His two escorts seemed very small. his head was barely off the floor and he saw two pairs of small, grey feet. They came to a steel cage and Milo was placed inside. He heard the door shut and the 'click' of engaging locks.

"Just one more step and then we can make you comfortable in your new home and have a talk. You're so lucky I had this nearly done or you'd spend a lot more time laying there paralyzed. Your own fault, don't blame me."

Something happened. He could 'feel' it, but wasn't sure what was happening.

"Ah, perfect. One needs to take pride in their work." The speaker snapped their fingers, and Milo could move again.

He was in a cylindrical cage, with a floor just long enough for him to lay down, and a roof high enough to stand up. The bars were three inches apart. Circling his cage was a set of glowing runes inscribed into the stone. Looking down he could see that some of them matched the slightly glowing burns upon his chest. A smooth metal collar circled his throat, he could feel no breaks in its construction.

"No rants or screams? I can see you confirming the status of your confinement. I'm going to conclude you may have some intelligence, surprising for one of your race. But then, I suspect you aren't really a Rat-Kin, any more than your fellow captives are a Celestial Elf or Child of Bastet that they appear to be." His captor put a strange emphasis on the names of their races, again, Milo felt something odd.

"Now, I believe your name is Tall-Squeak. I caught that much on our first meeting. I have to get an appropriate name-plate for your cell. I do like to keep my specimens correctly identified." He blew a small whistle, and one of the grey minions came running.

Milo got a better look at it. It was something like a hairless gnome with grey skin. Its eyes were dark but dead. No emotion showed on its face. Milo could see a smooth metal collar around its neck. The wizard spoke to it. "Name Plate. 'Tall Squeak'. Common racial name: Rat-kin. Classification: scouwon ratticus latrans. End." The minion turned silently and walked away.

Milo examined his captor, choosing not to speak. The man was tall, and dressed flamboyantly. His long robe with arcane symbols upon it simply screamed 'wizard'. Short dark hair, piercing green eyes, and a goatee completed look. This was either a powerful wizard or a cousin of Ming the Merciless. It was a toss-up at this point. Milo couldn't identify him at all. It was like the skill simply didn't work.

"I'll leave you to get acquainted, as I have things to attend to, but these two aren't very talkative, I'll warn you."

The wizard left, exiting through a heavy door. Milo looked at the two cages across from him. In one was a tall, slim elf with light blue skin, white hair, and glowing silver eyes. He had only a ragged pair of pants on.

The other seemed to be a large grey cat, curled up in a nest. It wasn't until the wizard left and she stood up that Milo realized she was humanoid in shape. Soft grey fur covered her under her meagre clothing. She had cat-like features, dark eyes, and sharp claws. A long tail twitched behind her.

Milo stood silently while the other two did the same. Again, he couldn't examine them.

There were name plates above their cages:

Nina

Child of Bastet

Imperial Cattus Deus

Onxy

Celestial Elf

Caelestis Elvanar

Perhaps they could work together to escape. "Hi, I'm Tall-Squeak. Any ideas on how we get out of here?"

Nina glared at him, and went and curled up in her bed. The elf seemed saddened, then spoke.

"For there is good news yet to hear, and fine things to be seen..."

Milo puzzled over that. "Does the good news have anything to do with breaking out?"

The elf, Onyx, sighed deeply. "I'm not sure if I am relieved, or greatly disappointed that you aren’t here for us." He sat down and put his head in his hands, ignoring Milo.

Milo decided he'd had enough of playing prisoner. He'd figure this out later. He needed some time away from the game, and had projects to do in the real world. He logged out of the game.

Or tried to. Nothing happened. The connection through his tail was also gone. He tried to call up screens, initiate some type of 'help' command, and even yelled out Sidney's name several times. After a fruitless hour he collapsed in the middle of the cage.

The elf's mocking voice said softly. "And that's why I'm relieved you aren't someone here to try and rescue us. There is no rescue from this hell. Not from the inside."