CHAPTER TWO: SURPRISE INSERTION

Instinctively, Jamen dropped the axe, and it fell to the dusty red ground with a metallic clang.

“Son of a bitch!” the axe swore.

Jamen took two steps backwards, before catching his heel on a rock and falling on his ass. He crab-walked backwards another five paces just for good measure. “Arousia, log out!” Jamen shouted to the sky, but he got no response. “Arousia!” he began again, but Casey cut him off.

“I tried that, dork,” he said. “Back during the earthquake. I don’t know if the game is busted or what, but I couldn’t log out either.”

"I didn’t feel an earthquake. And where the hell are we?" Jamen stood up, and tentatively walked back over to where Casey lay on the ground. "Do you think this is the southern continent?"

“I have no clue. Looks a bit like Mars, but I can see a tree way off in the distance to the south. Not much of a tree, but it’s a tree,” Casey said.

Jamen shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun and squinted his eyes toward the south. "I don't…oh, wait. Yeah, I see it." Jamen, struck with a sudden thought, turned his head over his shoulder, looking to wear the axe lay in the dust. "But how can you see it? And how the hell are you talking? Your voice sounds like it's projecting from you, but…it's kind of creeping me out a little bit."

"I don't know, and I don't know," Casey growled, "I don't know anything right now. But sight and speech seem to be the only two things I'm capable of. I'm freaking out right now, man. I can't fucking move!"

Jamen walked up to the axe and kneeled next to it on the ground. “But you can feel things, yes?”

The axe paused for a moment before his voice sounded again. “Yeah. It’s hot as balls laying here in the dirt under the sun. And…” Casey paused.

“What?” Jamen asked, exasperated.

“This sounds fucked up, I know, but when you were holding me earlier, it felt all the world like you were…” Casey’s voice got quieter, “holding my dick in both hands.”

Jamen's eyes followed the length of the axe's new shaft. The thing was three or four feet long if it was an inch. Even when it was on the demon, it was still only a respectable two, but that was flaccid. Now, he was staring at a veiny, purple-skinned, circumcised, erect devil dick. "That's stupid," Jamen said. "I've seen your dick, and I'd barely need one hand."

“Dude, this isn’t funny,” said Casey.

“I know man, I know. But how can it feel like I was touching your dick if you don’t even have a body?” Jamen scowled. “What does it feel like when I touch your blade?” He reached out a finger and poked the ornately etched metal.

Casey let out a sigh of frustration.

Jamen’s eyes went wide. “It’s not… they’re not…”

Casey growled. “Aaaaagh! I can’t even nod my head! Yes, dipshit, it feels like you’re touching my balls.”

At this, Jamen cracked up laughing.

“Fuck you, man, this isn’t funny!” the axe shouted.

“Dude, it’s fucking hilarious! Whatever happened will be over any minute, and we’ll either be back in Areolon or back in our chairs sitting at our systems. Either way, man, this is one for the ages,” Jamen said, not able to suppress his laughter. Nor trying, for that matter. “Might even get a new nickname out of it, put the spoon to rest for good.”

“Jamen, knock it the fuck off!” Casey shouted.

Jamen stopped laughing, and his voice became serious. "Casey, you know you're being a real tool right now, right?" The laughing resumed.

“That’s it, you bastard. I’m going to,” Casey paused. “Fuck! I can’t fucking move.”

“Okay, okay, I’m done. I’m sorry, Spoony. So what do we do from here?”

“Can you please,” the axe paused awkwardly. “Can you please just pick me up?”

Jamen’s face scrunched up distastefully as he looked at the cock-shafted weapon.

“What? You had no problem cutting it off the demon lord and swinging the damned thing around,” Casey said. “Just pick me up.”

“Yeah, that’s before it was your dick.”

“Jamen,” the axe began.

“Yeah, I get it. Okay, fine.” Jamen closed his eyes as he reached out his hands and closed them around the shaft. With his eyes shut, it didn’t feel like a penis. It felt like a hard pole that you’d find attached to any weapon. A stupidly veiny hard pole, but a pole nonetheless. Jamen held the axe out at arms’ length and slowly opened his eyes. Then he shut them again.

“Jamen, quit being such a wuss. Put me over your shoulder and head towards that tree,” Casey said.

“Fine, fine,” Jamen said, resignation in his voice. As instructed, Jamen hoisted the axe to his shoulder, his hand cupping the end of the handle. Then, he began following what appeared to be a path off the bluff to the flat desert below.

"Jamen?" Casey's voice said from behind Jamen's head.

“What now, Spoony?”

“You’re, uh. You’re holding my knob.”

The axe clattered to the ground again.

“You asshole!” Casey bellowed, but Jamen was already giving his apologies, brushing dirt off the blade before picking the axe up again.

“Don’t…worry…about the dirt.” Casey said, exasperated.

“Oh, yeah. Damn it, Casey, this is just too fucking weird.”

“Try putting yourself in my position.”

They continued their trek down from the bluff. Jamen found that he could balance the axe on his shoulder by draping his forearm over the handle. He also found that it was a lot easier to deal with if he internally referred to it as a handle and not a shaft. When they got to the bottom, Jamen switched the axe to his other shoulder and set off trudging towards the distant tree.

The sun baked down on them as they walked in silence. There wasn't even the slightest breeze to help combat the heat. Down here on the flat, red earth they could see the desert was not devoid of vegetation. Small grasses grew out of the sandy ground in small greenish-brown clumps. Sweat was now dripping down Jamen's forehead, and his white robes clung to his body. Suddenly, Jamen stopped. With his free hand, he began patting down his robes. He swore.

“What is it?” Casey asked.

“My pouches, my inventory, my cleric’s crook,” Jamen said. “They’re all gone.”

“I think we have bigger things to worry about,” Casey replied.

“Yeah, but…” Jamen sighed, and resumed their march to the tree.

As the tree got closer, Casey broke the silence. “Can you see that?” he asked.

“See what?”

“There, way off to the south of the tree. It looks like a cliff face or something. I think…” Casey paused, and it gave Jamen the impression that he was squinting. “I think I can see caves.”

“I’m not seeing it. Just more desert.”

“Trust me,” the axe said. “It’s there.”

“How exactly does your sight work for you anyways?” Jamen asked. “You have no eyes.”

“It’s weird, but I have 180 degrees of vision when I focus on any one point, about 90 to either side,” Casey explained. “and I can rotate that point of focus to wherever I want it. And the details are incredibly sharp.”

“Don’t suppose you can see any water?” Jamen asked, sounding parched.

“Not yet, sorry. But it’s weird, not being thirsty,” Casey said.

“Don’t know how you’d drink it anyway, unless your demon schlong can act like a straw,” Jamen said.

Casey chuckled, for the first time since entering this wasteland.

A few minutes later they arrived at the tree, if it could be called that. The gnarled, twisted wood was completely bare of leaves, and while it offered no shade it did provide a backrest. Jamen leaned the axe against the tree, blade side down, before considering.

“Do you feel upside down?” Jamen asked.

“Funnily enough, no,” Casey said. “My field of vision stays upright in relation to the ground. I didn’t even notice until I looked at myself.”

“Wait,” Jamen said, sitting down at the base of the tree. He leaned back against it and sighed contentedly before continuing. “You can see yourself now?”

"Yeah, once I figured out how. It's weird. It's almost like setting your camera angle in a screen-based game. Its default setting is looking out from the head of the axe, but I can move the camera, so to speak, outside of my body. It's trippy. I spent the whole walk here experimenting with it. Everything is so… in focus.”

“How far out can you go?” Jamen asked.

“From what I’ve been able to do, about five feet. If I try any further, it’s almost like there’s a force field or something preventing it.”

“Strange,” Jamen said, staring off into the water-like mirage rippling off the ground in the distance.

***

Jamen went over their situation in his head while he replenished his strength. He jumped a little when he heard a low rumbling sound a few minutes later before realizing what it was. Casey was snoring.

Chuckling to himself, Jamen said, “Snoring, sure. I’m just not going to question it anymore.”

A few minutes later, Jamen stood up, brushing the dust from his robes. His thirst was starting to take over any other thoughts he might be having. Call it fate, but at that very moment, he heard a female voice ask, "Thirsty?"

Jamen spun around to face the way they had come, and blinked repeatedly to make sure he saw what he thought he was seeing. A woman approached them. She was clothed in a silvery gown, so translucent that Jamen could make out details of the land behind her through the fabric. He could clearly see the woman's breasts through the robe—massive might have been too extreme of a word, but they were not well-proportioned to her body. He wondered how they managed to stay so high on her chest—she wasn't wearing any supportive garments. Long, shiny hair so blonde it almost looked white, hung down her back and over her shoulders, and as he glanced back down the length of the stunning woman's body he saw hints of a small, matching triangular patch of the sunlight-colored hair about two inches below her navel. Jamen kicked the axe with the heel of his boot.

“Owwww! What the hell, man? Do I fucking kick you in the nuts to wake you up?” Casey moaned.

“Sorry man, I forgot. But look north, would ya?”

“Why the…oh. Hello, there,” Casey crooned in a voice that didn’t sound creepy at all.

“Hello, Casey,” the woman said. She approached until she was standing next to them. She slid a water skin off her shoulder and handed it to Jamen, who tilted his head back and drank greedily. He poured some over his face, which was beginning to burn, then handed it back. “And hello, Jamen. I imagine you have some questions.”

“Yeah, just a few,” Casey said, calmer than he felt. “The first one being, why the hell am I a battle axe with a dick for a handle?”

The woman took a step closer to the axe, and started tracing a finger along the purple shaft. “Yes, that is quite…something, isn’t it?” she mused. Her finger traced upwards again, circling around the tip once before stepping back. Jamen couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw the axe shudder. “I’m afraid I don’t have that answer for you, but perhaps I can help shed some light on why you are here,” she said.

“That would be a good start, yes,” said Jamen. “But first, where are we?”

“This land is called Memek, which is very far away from the place you call Earth,” she explained. Her voice sounded like she was talking to a roomful of idiots while trying to seduce them at the same time. Jamen found the effect unsettling.

“Wait,” Casey said. “What do you mean, we’re on another planet? That’s… impossible. We’re in a simulation. I’m wearing VR goggles, and so is Jamen. We’re playing a game.”

“You were playing a game, yes, and in many ways, you still are,” the woman said. She walked around Jamen, sliding a hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Now it was Jamen’s turn to shiver. “You see, the universe has been observing your planet, just as it does every planet.”

“What do you mean? And who are you, anyway?” Casey demanded.

“My name is Indah,” the woman said. She now stood once again in front of the two. Jamen tried to force himself to stop staring at the woman’s chest through the gossamer garment, but found it pointless--completely unlike the woman’s breasts. Despite the heat, her large nipples stood erect, creating little bumps in the fabric.

The woman saw him staring, and she traced one of her nipples with a fingertip, smiling coyly. "Ah, you like what you see? I have a feeling you're going to like it here. Anyway," she said, her voice switching in an instant from sultry to businesslike, "as I was saying. What you need to know is, the universe is itself just one giant game. One where nobody knows the rules until it is too late. But certain species, the ones that advance far enough without managing to kill themselves off, often complete scientific…feats, I guess is the word, that tell the rest of the universe your species is ready for something more than the hum-drum grind of daily life. One of these feats we look for is the ability to create a believable simulation—a creation so lifelike that the player can spend hours in it, sometimes forgetting that it's not the real world they know. This happens all the time in the universe, and honestly, what you call VR is just so primitive I personally think it barely qualifies. But the other feat is one we don't see all that often. The creation of what your scientists call ‘time crystals.'"

Jamen blinked, but it was Casey that spoke up. “Time crystals? I’ve heard of those.”

“I haven’t. What are you talking about?” Jamen asked.

“I don’t want to get into the physics of it, because frankly, the majority of your race is not yet smart enough to comprehend,” said Indah. “But somehow you managed to create one, and shatter one. The effect of that was like hitting a spider’s web with a baseball, to put it in terms you would understand. The reverberations of the shattered crystal echoed throughout the multiverse. So, here I am.”

“Um, yeah okay, that’s great. But I feel like you skipped a whole bunch of steps between ‘reverberations’ and ‘here I am,’” said Jamen.

“This is your test,” Indah said. “You sent out the invitation, whether you wanted to or not. We took the two of you both because one of you were conveniently in a game near the point where the crystal broke, and you could most easily understand what was required of you. Jamen, you weren’t near the actual point of the shattered crystal, but you were in the game with Casey here, so you were taken too.”

She paused, appearing to contemplate what she was about to say before continuing. “There are an infinite number of universes, and they’re all part of the game,” she said, raising her arms to the air. This had the effect of pressing the woman’s breasts together, and Jamen and found it hard to concentrate on much else.

“So, we’re in a game, but we’re not,” said Jamen. “Yeah, I have no idea what’s going on.”

“I’ll put it in terms you’ll understand,” said Indah, her arms falling back to her sides. “Help this planet, finish this game, and you can go back to your planet as heroes.”

“Why would we be heroes?” Casey asked.

“Because your actions will bring about a new age for what you call ‘humanity,’” she explained. “Finish this game, save these people, and the place you call Earth will become part of the Dunia. Countless civilizations that have advanced sufficiently enough to where the true secrets of science, nature, and the infinite universes have been unveiled to them, as they will to you. Humanity will no longer be alone, nor confined to your one little rock, nor suffer all of the maladies that have plagued your pathetic planet since it formed. All will be revealed,” she said, “after you win.”

“Win what? What people?” You’re creating more questions than answers!” Jamen shouted, exasperated.

The woman walked up to Jamen and took his hand, placing it on her breast. For his part, Jamen left it there as the woman’s face drew nearer to his, until it was doubtful a quarter could have slid in the space between their lips. “Beat the game,” she whispered, her ice-blue eyes glancing down at Jamen’s lips, her own lips parting slightly. Jamen’s breath came in gasps. Then, the woman vanished, but not her robes. The garment fell to the ground in a shimmering puddle of fabric. Jamen swore he could still smell the woman’s scent. It was vanilla. Or maybe grape candy.

“What…the fuck…just happened?” Casey asked. “And how hard are you right now?”

“I have no clue. About your first question anyway. What does she mean, this is a game? She said it was another world? And I’m not hard at all, thank you very much,” Jamen retorted. He picked up the silky garment from the red, dusty ground and examined it. It felt amazingly cool to the touch, almost as if he had just taken it out of the freezer. He wrapped it around himself. “Oh, that feels so good,” he said. Using the long sleeves, he tied the garment around his head like a bandana, letting the rest fall over his shoulders and down his back. “Oh man, it’s better than air conditioning! I feel twenty degrees cooler at least.”

“Well you look like you’re on the way to a pride festival,” Casey said. “Hey, what’s that?”

“What’s what? You realize, if you’re pointing, I can’t see it.”

“Down there, where the robe was.”

Jamen looked down to the spot where he had just picked up the fabric. There in the dust lay two rolls of parchment, side by side. He picked them up and unrolled one of them. Then he laughed. “You’re not going to believe this,” he said, unrolling the parchment fully and holding it up to the axe, still leaning against the tree.

“That’s funny right there,” Casey said. “At least they got my good side. Hey that’s weird. They changed MP to SP. Arousia’s scrolls used MP for magic points. Now it’s SP. Spell points?”

“I always thought it was mana points,” said Jamen as he rolled up Casey’s scroll and opened his own. “Anyway,” Jamen said, “mine still says MP. Strange. And it says I’m a level one ‘custom cleric,’ whatever that means. At least I have a heal spell.”

“This sucks. I’d like to hold the scroll. Touch anything for that matter. Or move, that would be nice. I’m a freaking battle axe. This is already starting to take a toll on my emotional well being and we’ve barely been here two hours,” Casey said.

“Well, we will figure something out, Spoonman,” Jamen said, trying to sound reassuring.

"You know, I can still feel the rest of me. It's like the stories you hear when amputees can steel feel their severed limbs. I have an itch on my head right now and it's driving me nuts," said Casey.

“We will figure it out,” Jamen repeated. “But for now, let’s head to those caves you saw. “South?”

"South it is," agreed Casey. Jamen hoisted Casey over his shoulder and the pair began walking. They didn't say much during the trip, Neither one of them had the answers they were both looking for, and midday desert heat was not the best place for a brainstorming session.

A half-hour later the plateau came into view for Jamen. It rose up out of the flat expanse of the desert like a wart. The walls of the enormous formation were stratified in bands of brown, red and gold. As Jamen scanned the surface he counted three openings. Two were near the top, giving the impression of windows, while only one was accessible. He headed for that one.

As Jamen entered the cave with the axe over his shoulder, the air instantly became cooler. Even with his new cooling garment, the change was immediately apparent. So much so that a sudden wave of fatigue crept over Jamen. He peered into the blackness, which started just a few feet into the cave.

“No torch, no flashlight,” Jamen muttered. “How’s your night vision? I can’t see a damned thing.”

“Apparently it’s pretty good,” said Casey. “I can see perfectly. The cave splits into two paths about 500 feet past the entrance.”

“Well, If you don’t mind, I’m going to rest for a second,” Jamen said as he propped Casey against a rock.

“You do you, man, I’ll just, I don’t know, count rocks or something,” Casey said.

Jamen took off the shimmering fabric and rolled it into a ball for a pillow. The coolness of the cave air on his skin and the cushion under his head made sleep come almost immediately.

When he woke up, the sun had set, and there was a moment of panic as he remembered where he was and with whom. He could barely make out the cave entrance, but headed towards it as it was the only source of light of any kind. He barely took three steps when he tripped over something at his feet. Feeling with his hands, he picked up the obstacle. It was a canvas knapsack.

His eyes were growing accustomed to the dim light as he opened the flap and started rummaging through the contents. Not much, but what was there was welcome. A strip of dried meat. A clay jar with a stopper that contained water. A piece of flint. A torch, with the end wrapped in oily rags.

"Someone's looking out for us," Jamen muttered as he took a bite of the meat and drank some water. He pulled his cleric's robes around him tightly as he shuffled toward the entrance. The night air was frigid, and Jamen began to shiver.

“This planet has rings,” he murmured. The absolute silence of the place began to grate on him a little bit, so he decided to try his luck with the flint to see if he could get that torch lit.

On the umpteenth try striking the flint against a flat rock, he managed to make a hot spark leap onto the oily rags of the torch. A small flame appeared as it took hold, quickly growing to ignite the whole end. For a second the illumination was blinding, but as he held it over his head, his eyes adjusted. He put everything back into the sack, slung it over his shoulder and headed back into the cave.

“Casey,” he whispered. He stopped at the rock he had propped the axe against. At least he thought it was this rock. The axe wasn’t there. Holding the torch high, he looked around the cave. Yes, it was definitely this rock.

He brought his torch close to the slab of stone. There, in the dirt covering the floor of the cave, he saw a set of footprints that led deeper into the darkness.