“I am grateful I came into this… uhhh, pod.” Amelia admitted after giving a moment to Quark. It was always brave to admit you were afraid of something. Amelia pulled her book out and started writing.

“What are you?” Quark asked after a moment of watching her write in the book and listening to the pen scrape against paper.

“I’m a human being, or a Transient. I come from Aspiria. We generally come in peace.” Amelia smiled and made a notation in the margins to make sure she didn’t forget that line. It was mostly pointless, since the system would adjust for her lack of detail somewhat if she were to share the entry. Like an invisible camera man that followed her around. Her book was the script and her cameraman the silent observer who made sure she got it right. She was rated based on how well she wrote, so she always endeavored to do her best with the details. Even if the experience bar hadn’t moved in a while, now that Amelia knew there was profound mastery for spells… The thought made her grin.

“I mean. You appear to be a historian but we sense the ebb of the Order of the Black from you,” Quark said evenly.

The pen came to a stop. “You have Order of the Black where you are from?”

“Yes, but there is no domineering emptiness within you,” Quark reached up above the comforter for the first time, scratchings the top of it’s green head with an appendage that resembled a mantis leg. “We are not stifled in your presence, there is no danger?”

“Maybe, I’m just really nice?” Amelia smiled despite her confusion. “Do you know a lot of Order of the Black?”

“We do not associate with the White or Black orders. They have their own pursuits and are off generally fighting whatever they may find that they believe to be dangerous. It is important to my race that we remain neutral. There are many worlds that seek provocation that they may be righteous conquerors.”

“Preach.” Amelia admitted with a nod before going back to writing. “Where I’m from there are a lot of Order of the Black now. People who counter spells, reflect spells, empower aura and other colorless schools. Many Order of the White too.” Amelia chuckled roughly to herself. “Order of the White seems better though, all things considered. There’s a lot more romance in the idea of being able to cast anything you want…”

“Destruction and creation are two coins,” Quark offered quietly. It felt like he was trying to comfort her.

“But what do I create? Strength, bonds, relationships? Big moments?” Amelia put her pen up and made the tell-tale swish through the air that made it disappear. The Chronicler in all its golden awesome book glory attached like it was a magnet to her side, the familiar weight settling easily.

“...We do not understand.” Quark tilted its head. “You are displeased that you do not encompass both sides?”

Amelia frowned, “...no, I mean that if White gets all the cool destruction stuff and creates all the awesome magic, where is all the cool creation stuff for Black?”

“We do not understand,” Quark repeated after a long moment of contemplation. “Yet, we have run out of time to talk for now. The door shines, and we believe it is for you.”

Amelia turned her head and noticed that the door was pulsing with a deep black now. It would have seemed scary, like a dark portal into nothingness… if it wasn’t surrounded by walls that had fringed white shag carpet mounted on it. “If the door shines, it shines for thee…”

“You can leave?” Quark reminded her. It didn’t sound like they were really suggesting it. Just reminding her of the alternative.

“Yeah,” Amelia turned toward them and watched as their compound eyes began to glitter in surprise.

“We take it back, your head has a very domineering and oppressive feel to it now…”

“Ha ha ha,” Amelia turned back toward the door and started to step through. “...it’s just my smile.”

⇱⇲⇱⇲⇱⇲

When Amelia stepped into the darkness she didn’t know what to expect. This whole experience had been widely jarring and disconcerting. Despite the casual and unhurried timeframe that the system seemed to be working with, Amelia felt like she should be picking up the pace. There was no real reason to go fast or to assume that the sooner she got out of here the better, but there was an invisible pressure that made her step into the dark portal with a quicker step than she might have at any other time. An urgency that filled her because of all the mysterious happenings.

How strange. Would I rather be watching the AA Finals?

Nah. If Aidan won he would be insufferable. Oh, my sweet Aidan.

The room she found herself in was the size of a soccer stadium. Room it was though, with the same weird carpet hugging the walls and now the ceiling. There was no way to tell where the lighting itself came from, but the room was very well lit. The most discouraging part was the fact that it was… empty.

Amelia started to walk further into the room to see if there was another door or something in the far back, but almost instantly ran into something. Predictably as a creature of grace, Amelia stumbled backward and fell onto her butt, wondering what she had run into. An invisible something that immediately shouted at her in a woman’s shrill voice.

“Halt Knave! Stand Ready! By order of the Quester Race!” Materializing from nothing and shocking Amelia. “Prepare for orientation, onboarding, and trials! You have one minute!”

Amelia stared stupidly upward at the woman in front of her. Short-cropped brown hair that absolutely defied any sort of straightness hung over golden irises hung on a caramel colored face. The woman in question was wearing a leather jacket buttoned together in an old aviation style and had some motorcycle goggles pushed high on her forehead. She was wearing pants that reminded Amelia of grey cargo pants that had some sort of armored high-tech looking plate fashioned in the front resembling some form of leg armor. High leather boots complete with heels went over those pants and up past her knees. She was holding a giant claymore straight up as if it were nothing. It wasn’t the fact that she was holding it without any effort, Raven could do that, it was the fact that the woman was holding it from the very end of the handle like it was a stick that she didn’t even know what to do with. There were a lot of mixed messages going on with this appearance, Amelia decided. She was... a mess.

I suppose I am the… knave?

Amelia stood up and moved closer, noting that the woman didn’t seem anxious or distressed at all. “Hello… I’m Amelia…”

The woman did nothing. She held her comically large sword awkwardly and stared at Amelia stoically. Amelia tried moving slightly to the side and found that the woman turned with her, those intense golden eyes following her despite Amelia’s earlier impression that this might just be a hologram.

“...what’s your name?” Amelia tried again. She was taking the time to look over the woman now that she wasn’t being immediately attacked. She was definitely not flat, Amelia decided, having gone all the way around the woman. Definitely not… flat… Amelia cringed at the thought, eyeing the leather jacket that strained in the other woman’s chest area. She felt a sudden irritation at the thought.

...what are you, Raven? Stop thinking about her breasts and how much bigger they are than yours. Well, they’re not that much bigger.

“Halt Knave! Your minute is up!” The woman yelled in Amelia’s face causing her to almost fall on her butt again. “Welcome to the Quester Race Research Facility. You have been painstakingly selected by passing our qualifications for a variety of demanding entry criteria. This Construct has been created with the purpose of making you feel more comfortable during this demanding and sometimes stressful process. You may leave if you wish. Simply, at any time, speak in your native language that you would like to surrender to the Quester Race and you will be returned to your world in a convenient and timely fashion.”

“Friendly construct, huh? Where are you getting this…” Amelia struggled to find the words and found herself forcing herself to speak after giving this construct the once over, “...uhh, idea that you look friendly to me?”

“This construct is designated B-354, you may refer to me as B3 if you wish, knave!”

“You’re just ignoring me now aren’t you?” Amelia squinted. Normally, Amelia might just think it was recorded or something but there was a hint of… something in those golden eyes that followed her. Not only that but the woman had waited for Amelia to finish speaking before spouting her nonsense.

“As your personal construct, Empress Amelia of Aspiria, Order of the Black, I will guide you through the Research Facility! The Quester Race is quite excited and honored to have you here. They wish you to know that they appreciate your acceptance of their invitation!”

“I was kidnapped.”

“The time it takes individuals to pass through all forms of testing is a commonly asked question!”

“I suppose you want me to ask you how long that is?”

“It varies from individual, but this B-354 construct would like you to know you may surrender at--”

“Got it.”

“--any time by simply saying ‘I surrender to the Quester Race’.”

“You’re going to be one of those things I hate aren’t you?” Amelia started to feel the tiniest bit stressed out. “Like the toaster I got from my mom that has every button except a toast bread button.”

B-354 smiled at her and nodded charmingly, as if she were listening to an entirely different conversation. “Typically the stages of testing fall into a pattern of three. Every first stage will be a rest and orientation stage. Please use these stages to rest and orient yourself.”

“How helpful.”

“In this first stage, like the one you are in now, you will also be allowed to return to your room--”

“Oh, I’ll do that then.”

“--but as this is your first time, you must complete a pattern before you are allowed back into your room.” B-354 finished almost as if it had predicted the interruption. “The second stage will be a puzzle stage. You will be given tasks to complete that to not involve combat. Please use whatever skills, feelings, and features you have available to you to proceed. If you are incapable of beating stage two there will be a penalty. Ha ha ha ha ha.”

“What’s the penalty?”

“Stage three will be a general combat stage! Do not be alarmed. While death is a possibility it is considered an unintended or accidental occurrence and does not occur with any real regularity. It has been five days since our last accident or unintended occurrence at the Research Facility. That sounds bad, but statistically given the number of guests it is quite reassuring.”

“Right, let's not talk about the penalty. I’m also totally reassured that death is more of a once in a week thing.”

B-354 beamed at Amelia and leaned down winking conspiratorally in a creepy pod-person fashion. She hid put the back of her hand to the side of her mouth as if she were imparting a small bit of secret advice. “Do not worry too much, please remember that you may leave any time you wish simply by saying ‘I surrender--”

“My sanity…”

“--to the Quester Race’ at any time you feel that you can no longer continue.”

“B-354, requesting data.” Amelia tried using its name. She was really freaking tempted to pull an Aidan and poke it with a stick to see if it was really here or if it was some sort of illusion.

B-3 put her hand down and then turned with the claymore still pointing up. “Please orient yourself to the gravity as you proceed to the second testing stage. It should be the same gravity as Aspiria but it will be adjusted based on circles underneath the floor that calculate and calibrate normal range of motion for your species, human.” There was a slight variation in voice on the word Aspiria, like it was just being dubbed over a normal speech.

“Great, okay! Uhh, hey… Vienne! I think I found a race of slavers! I know I’m not welcome in your hall or anything! I’m not even asking for a rescue or anything like that! You could send Gabriel or--” Amelia decided a hail mary was in order. Vienne couldn’t stand having her name thrown around. Or so Amelia hoped. It had been a long time and they had talked a lot of crap about her without her ever showing up again after their Void and Half questline without any results, but maybe she would--

---------------------------

Local Alert - Attention - Ominous Atmosphere

Your Skill, Survival Awareness has activated.

You feel a formidable danger approaching you.

----------------------------

B-3 had turned abruptly and was regarding Amelia with a blank expression now. The construct was standing straight up, or well, more upright than it had been before. B-3 was tilting her head and looking at her dispassionately. A moment passed before B-3 smiled once again. It was like watching a light switch being flicked. Deadly-ish android into perfect Stepford wife in a moment.

“Alert, Empress Amelia of Elysium, please refrain from trying to communicate with individuals outside of the testing area. As a first infraction, action taken: warning! Continued attempts to subvert rules will result in a penalty. Escalation of penalty. Finally, you will be considered as forfeiting your opportunity to go through the Research Facility and will be asked to leave.” B-3 stared at her for a long moment with that brilliant smile and then turned again.

"What penaltys?"

B-3 continued staring helpfully.

“This place is Empress of the mixed signals…” Amelia muttered.