It said a lot that I felt most at ease when I was trapped and helpless. Particularly, it spoke of a problem which still needed solving.

Vibrant blues and greens swam across the surface of the white bubble which surrounded me. With each color that passed close to skin, I felt a section of my nervous system flash with life. Surging down one leg, then the other. Paralyzing my forearm in a way that felt like my veins would explode at any moment. All accompanied by a tickling sensation to which there was no relief.

And the Cyclops.

Wherever I turned my head, it followed. Always residing at the center of my vision. Not a creature, but a diagram.

A bar chart was laid out in front of me. A horizontal axis and nine bars, all in white. The bars were all of different heights, some stretching above the axis, some stretching below. There were no labels. Displayed above the bar graph was an ovate portrait of myself from the shoulders up. I was naked, wearing a flat expression, standing in front of a black background.

If I squinted my eyes, I could maybe see the eye and the set of teeth of a Cyclops. Maybe.

A green light pulsed against the white, and my tongue went numb.

I wondered at the face I was making in the portrait. As far as expressions went, I was far less emotive than the average person. Was this supposed to be a representation of my personality? Or would anyone's portrait have the same expression?

Furthermore, I wondered at the purpose of the chart and the portrait. Were these my metaphysical stats? Strength, dexterity, intelligence? The lack of labels bothered me nearly as much as the tingling sensations. I stared at them, considering. Trying to come up with an explanation.

Maybe it wasn't a bar graph at all. I was working off of at least two assumptions.

I continued to think, and for a moment I could have sworn I saw one of the bars grow in height. The change was punctuated by a surge of pain across my rib cage.

♦

I lost focus for a few seconds. When I regained it, I felt more at ease.

Calm. The feeling was wrong, but I couldn't understand why. What had been agitating me before? Seeing Kioshi roll out of the helicopter without a parachute? Not knowing where I was?

No. Both of those things still disturbed me. It had to be something else...

Another splash of green light peeled away from the surface of the walls and touched my chest. The pain that erupted under the surface of my skin felt hollow.

♦

I gasped for air, finding my lungs suddenly depleted. When I took in too much, the result was a choking fit. Spitting the air back out. Eventually, my breathing stabilized.

What the fuck was happening to me? Where was I? Was this torture? Would I survive?

Too many unanswered questions. My eyes scanned the cryptic diagram, desperate for an explanation.

Meanwhile, a section of the white wall was turning a deep crimson. The swelling spot of color began to bulge from the surface, reaching towards my face.

No, oh fuck no. No! Fuck!

I couldn't defend myself. My limbs were locked in a fetal position and I could barely move my head. The red light pooled out from the wall, stretching like a cord to the point between my eyes.

The most I could do was scream. Vicious waves of pain rattled my body, physically shaking it. Burning pain mingled with a terrible freezing sensation. In those seconds, each of my limbs felt cold and disconnected from the rest of my body.

♦

For a moment, my brain felt like it was occupying each of my limbs as four separate hosts. I was merely a left leg, and then I was merely a left arm.

But limbs weren't the only things affected. It was a simplified explanation because reality had been too weird to think about. It was easy enough to exist as an arm or a leg. Significantly less comforting to exist as an eye, an ear, a finger, a...

Yeah.

Fuck.

My thoughts eventually settled into a strange calm, but every part of my body still felt detached. Like a cluster of useful tools floating together in a human shape.

All at once, the bright walls surrounding me dimmed and disappeared. The weightlessness I hadn't felt until now became weight again. I fell half a meter onto a cold, vinyl surface.

"What was... oh!"

I rolled onto my back and stretched my arms and legs. They were stiff from being forced to bend and fold in the white room. Whoever had spoken spoke again, "Layla, look! Another person!"

"No shit?"

When I opened my eyes, I found that it was hard to focus them. Everything was darker in contrast to where I had just come from. I turned my head towards the voices and saw five faces staring at me.

No... three faces. I was still seeing double.

One of the blurs stood from a couch and hurried to my side, falling to a crouch. I focused my distorted vision on her and was able to see the details. Her face was especially pale, fenced in by straightened brown hair. Even in a crouch, I could tell she was shorter than most women her age. My age.

She wore the most sympathetic smile I had seen in forever, and when the lips parted, I recognized her as the first to have spoken, "Are you ok? Feeling weird, maybe?"

"Mmhm," I said lamely. Why couldn't I speak?

"Do you want a hand getting up?" she asked.

"I think I can manage," I said, only because I wanted to try. My body felt weird and alien, and I needed to know if it was still operational. I got to my feet and swayed, feeling light-headed. The kind woman held my shoulders, lending her support.

Everything was still working, but it all felt wrong. Even the experience of standing. I could distinctly feel each leg supporting half of my weight.

"Tell me you're drunk," the other woman in the room said. Layla, her head peeking out from the back of a couch. Silky black hair and brown skin. My age or younger, with eyebrows that spoke of a lifetime of sarcasm. She looked Indian or Malaysian; it was hard to... tell...

I was dazed, and I made a funny expression at her, "Nice to meet you, too. I'm not drunk, but... have we met?"

Why was she so familiar? I felt like I knew her from somewhere recent. From earlier today, or yesterday, or- well, I still wasn't sure how the days added up.

She clicked her tongue in seeming disappointment, and said, "Doubt it."

Ok, maybe I didn't know her.

I stood straighter, regaining my balance and shrugging my shoulders from the other woman's grasp. It wasn't a priority, but I still had to ask, "Why would it matter if I'm drunk?"

Layla sighed heavily, and said, "It would have livened things. Whatever. I don't care anymore."

"If you were drunk, there was a chance we could get some alcohol with our meals here. Pay it no mind," the third person said. An older man in his thirties with platinum blonde hair and a friendly demeanor. He was tall, built, and the unkempt facial hair threw it all off. He smiled and gestured with his hand, "I'm West, by the way. And the young ladies are Layla and Maisie."

Layla chuckled, shifting around on the couch so that she was facing the television once more.

I finally had the wherewithal to look around, and my eyes scanned the room. It reminded me of some of the break rooms I'd seen in retail stores. A dense combination of living room and kitchen. In front of me were three black faux-leather couches, arranged in a U-shape around a TV mounted on the wall. They sat on a brown and beige rug with abstract images and frayed corners. To my right, a cheap round table with plastic chairs, as well as a wall of countertops and kitchen appliances. The floor tiles were white and black. There was an alcove in the far corner that I couldn't see into.

And there were no windows or doors.

A weight was tugging at my shorts, trying to pull them down. I felt it in my hips; just my hips. I looked and found the two grappling guns strapped to my waist. I also noticed the carving wand poking out of a pocket.

"I'm Alec," I started, uneasy, "Nice to meet you. Could you tell me where-,"

I had to stop because literal magic was happening. A human-sized polyhedron phased through a wall to my left and came to a stop an arm's length away. The geometric walls of the orb were dazzling in the way they cast the rest of the room in chalky white light. After spinning in place for a few seconds, the light faded and the shape dissolved into nine floating motes of light. The motes scattered, phasing through the walls in the direction they had come from.

Fuck me. Ok. That did it. I'm officially open to considering the 1% of ideas I deemed near-impossible. Aliens, magic-users, God? Welcome to my probability space.

Ted Lax fell from where the shape had been, collapsing onto the tiles. Maisie wasted no time moving to his side and offering assistance. Ted accepted, clutching her hand and being pulled up from the ground. When he let go, Maisie cupped her hands together and bit her lip. No idea what that was supposed to mean.

"Hoh!" West said in surprise, "Could that be? Teddy Lax?"

Ted tapped the area below his neck and fanned the hand out to the side. His trademark salute, minus the bowtie. It took me until then to notice that all of us were wearing the same outfit. Skin-tight t-shirts and joggers, all in white.

"Kudos on getting the name right. Good man!" Ted smiled, and I noted the nickname preference, "Care to say where we are?"

West stepped out from the corner to better engage Teddy, and said, "Wish I could tell ya, I really do. We've been here for what feels like weeks and we're still not sure. Ah man, though. You're really Teddy Lax! I sell your products!"

"Ah-ah!" Teddy said, holding up a finger and flourishing it skyward, "Our products."

Layla groaned.

"Yes, of course," West said, apologetic, "Also, you may want to move out of the way. If there are more of you...,"

Teddy side-stepped just in time for the glowing polyhedron to phase back through the wall. It deposited Blaine where Teddy had just been standing and then disappeared.

Maisie offered a hand, and Blaine graciously accepted. Once he was up, he clasped Maisie's hand with both of his and stared intimately into her eyes. "Thank you," he half-whispered, "I'm Blaine."

Ever the fucking flirt.

"I'm Maisie. Are more on their way?" Maisie asked, failing to blush. Or maybe she did? I never could tell.

Blaine sighed in disgust, and said, "Yeah."

He was feigning annoyance and spoiling whatever first impressions Brad, Addy, and Kioshi might make. Or just Brad and Addy. Part of me couldn't shake the idea that Kioshi was dead. That, or he was injured and treading water miles from the coast of the island.

Maisie pulled two large cushions off of a couch and tossed them to the corner where people kept arriving. As if on cue, the ball of light returned and gave us Brad.

Brad wasn't moving, and my brain assumed the worse. When he rolled onto his stomach to get more comfortable on the cushions, I did an internal eye-roll.

Resting. Typical Brad.

Maisie pranced over to him and dropped to her knees. She patted his hair, and said, "Nice to meet you, but you're going to get smushed if you don't move."

"Give me a second," Brad mumbled, speaking into the vinyl covering of the cushions.

"I got this," Blaine announced, grabbing the two cushions and pulling Brad out of the way.

"Hey, wait!" Maisie protested, "I had those there for a reason!"

Too late.

The next shipment arrived. Kioshi fell sideways onto his shoulder and managed to turn the motion into a forward roll. Teddy, West, and I backed into the kitchen to make room for him and the others.

Kioshi's head pivoted ninety degrees one way, and then ninety degrees in the opposite direction. Assessing his surroundings for details and threats. He locked eyes with Layla, who was giving him a hateful glare.

"Tell me that's all. Please," she growled.

"If only that were true," Blaine huffed, earning him the Kioshi death-eyes. Kioshi had counseled us on cooperation, and these comments were the opposite of that.

'Yatsu. Fuzakeru na!'

Most of the people in the room froze, myself included. Had they heard the voice in their heads, too?

'Nani? Kiken? Nani ga okotta?'

Kioshi was the only one still moving, frantically scrutinizing each of us.

"Hey, could you try English, please?" Layla suggested, addressing Kioshi, "Or can you only think in Japanese?"

"I have not spoken," Kioshi snarled.

'Shinjimae!'

"Woah. That one sounded harsh. Is this what it's gonna be like living with you?"

I finally understood, and Kioshi seemed to get it a moment later. He was a telepath. Was this new?

More questions. Always adding to the pile, rarely subtracting.

Our investigation was interrupted by the last arrival. Seeing the emerging ball of light, Brad shoved a cushion across the floor. Addy crashed into the tiles and took a cushion to the face.

Maisie helped him up, and Addy thanked her.

"Thanks, Charlene. May I call you Charlene?"

Maisie blushed, and this time I caught it.

"Keep calling her that, and you won't last long," Layla warned him, rising from the couch. I looked at her, and I could imagine a woman who went heavy on the eye-shadow. Intimidating. Did she not have access to make-up here?

Addy raised his hands in innocence and said, "Hey, I know a Charlene when I see one. Who do you purport to be?"

"I'll be nothing more than a foot in your ass if you keep calling her that," Layla threatened, pointing a finger and tilting her arm sideways like a thug.

Addy smiled wryly, "Do be gentle."

She half-smiled, still glaring, and the tension shifted from antagonistic to something else.

'We are guests here. Treat the women with respect.'

Everyone in the room reacted, except for the sender and the recipient. Either Kioshi was still learning how the telepathy worked, or Addy was used to having conflicting thoughts.

Addy still stood in the delivery zone. Maisie opened her mouth, probably to warn him.

"You should-," Maisie started, but Layla shushed her.

"What? I should what?" Addy drilled, "Keep calling you Charlene?"

On the far side of the room, Teddy leaned against a kitchen sink, "Cheeky play, Ms. Layla, but that's all of us." Then, to West, "I'm not keen on staying for long. I'd be interested to know what escape methods you've tried? My associate is quite handy with getting out of dire situations."

"Yes," Kioshi agreed.

West smoothed a hand over his bleached hair and smiled awkwardly, "I'm not discrediting your skills when I say this. But you're not getting out. We've thrown couches at the walls, stabbed knives at the ceiling tiles... not even a scratch or scuff. All of the outer surfaces of this room are solid as rock."

Invulnerable walls and ceiling. Just like in the business simulation.

"I would guess you have not attempted a bomb?" Kioshi asked. West's eyes went wide, and Kioshi nodded, "You have not."

A bomb. I wondered if Addy still had his boomsticks, even though I was sure they wouldn't-

A soft force grabbed hold of my stomach and began to coax the rest of my body upwards. Tenderly and with great care. I flailed one of my arms like a madman because I could barely feel it with how weightless it had become.

Others were sharing in the confusion. Kioshi grabbed the kitchen table and roped his other arm around West. Blaine placed a hand on Maisie's shoulderblade; any excuse to touch her. Brad - who was still napping on a cushion - began to float off of the ground, and his feminine shriek jolted my senses.

My own feet lifted from the ground.

Walls and ceiling and floor. All began to lose their color, becoming translucent. The outlines of the room and its objects became solid white lines, and the surfaces became starlight. With time, the outlines faded from reality as well.

When all had vanished, the nine of us remained, our bodies floating in the space just outside of the Earth's atmosphere. A familiar setting, but fuck me if it was disorienting.

All around us, the same oxygen shield as before. White geometric shapes, only partially visible. The white film of the walls faded, leaving only the outline and the glorious view of the stars.

And the aliens.

Within the spherical chamber, eight white wisps of light floated around us. Circling, diving, dancing. One of the wisps expanded, exploding into nine smaller motes of light. The motes rearranged themselves into a convex, curved shape, and the spaces between the dots became silver polygonal surfaces. Another wisp exploded into motes and morphed into a stepped pyramid. It attached itself to the lens shape, the tip of the pyramid stabbing into its side.

The combined shape zipped between each of the floating bodies, stopping for a second in front of each face. When it stopped centimeters from my own face, I saw my reflection. My entire reflection, which should have been impossible at this angle, even with the slight curve.

Another voice wormed its way into my head, and it was not Kioshi. This voice echoed with grand reverberations and somehow managed to feel bright. The voice of a god.

I will help you.