Beta Read - For a Friend (Feedback wanted) Post 3

Chapter 5: The Trials 

New words rose up from the floor and this time, they were accompanied by a female voice. It was calm, almost seductive. And yet, hearing it speak startled the hell out of him.

"Lay down where you are, Champion Khalil."

"What the hell?!" Khalil gasped.

"The lore imbued in the Helmet of The Avatar will read your being and deepen its connection."

Before he could react, the headset wrapped around his skull for a second time. He felt like the world was spinning and that he was falling through the floor. The sensation lasted for only ten seconds or so, but it left him reeling

When it was finished, new words appeared. And this time, they were accompanied by something else: A three dimensional, humanoid shape about six feet in height. It stood next to the words. It was a wire frame of light motes. The lines of light implied segmented arms and legs. The thing had no discernible face. Instead, the skull was slightly angular and there were slits in its sides.

"Before you are transferred to the Avatar, you must undergo three trials," the voice said. "The first trial: the Trial of Possession. You must learn how to control another body. The being you see before you is an empty vessel. It is a mockup of the avatar you will soon come to inhabit. You will use it to familiarize yourself with moving around in a body that is not your own."

In the upper left hand corner of Khalil's vision, a small, green symbol of a doorway appeared, glowing and winking. New words manifested in the air and the woman spoke.

"The Helmet of The Avatar has familiarized itself with your mind," she said. "The lore you see has been tailored to appear before you in a recognizable, intuitive form based on lore from your own world. The green doorway you see represents a passage to the mock avatar. This is the Avatar Connection. Focus. Use your mind and open it."

"W-what?" Khalil asked. "Ma'am? Hey! Ma'am, what's going on?"

This device responded to him before. It had to be listening.

"Yo, hold on, answer me. Are you some sort of AI? What is this?"

She, whoever she was, did not answer. Her words hovered in the air, unchanging. Sighing, Khalil focused on the green symbol. The woman said to use his mind, so that's what he did. He focused on the symbol and it responded by glowing even brighter. What else did she say it was? A doorway? Using his mind, he thought about pushing it open. The doorway swung forward, revealing a swirling vortex behind it. The vortex tunneled and spun, twirling like a wormhole. Lightning crackled and sparked around it. New words floated upward and the woman spoke.

"The Avatar Connection has been opened," she said. "You are now connected to the mock avatar. To finalize the connection and take control, you must close your eyes."

Khalil hesitated. Would he really be able to control another body? It was crazy. There's no way this would work. But, curiosity got the better of him. So he did as instructed and closed his eyes. Two figures appeared against the darkness of his eyelids. One was an outline of the avatar. The other…the other was an outline of himself.

He recognized his silhouette from the durag on his head, to the dreads poking out, all the way to the jersey and cargo shorts. A line connected the two figures and there was a circle on the end closest to his outline. It was a slider. Words appeared above this illustration and the disembodied voice spoke again.

"This is the strength of your connection." she said. "One figure represents you. One represents the mock avatar. Focus on the circle near you and push it toward the avatar. When you do, you will find yourself transferring to its body. The further you slide it, the less you will feel your body and the more you will possess the new body. It s eyes , ears, arms and legs will become yours. This will be new to you, Champion Khalil. Rest assured, you will not be harmed."

Khalil was filled with a whole lot of doubts. What was that about feeling his own body less? Focusing, he nudged the slider forward. It was like using a volume slider on a computer except it was horizontal, not vertical. At first, he did not feel any change. But pas a certain point, something incredibly trippy happened. He felt the bed against his back, but he also felt air against his back and he could see himself lying on the bed. He was in two places at the same time! Panicking, he mentally pushed the slider all the way over to the mock avatar. Everything changed.

He was standing in his own bedroom, his arms and legs were made of light motes and stars. He saw his body lying on the bed, wearing the alien headset.

"Bro, what the fuck…" he said.

He saw his body laying on the bed, its mouth forming the words. He heard himself speak, both from his real body and from the new one. He looked at a mirror hanging on the wall. He didn't see the mock avatar's reflection, so that meant it wasn't real. This had to be a simulation. But he could actually feel himself standing here. He could move his arm and touch stuff. He couldn't affect any of the objects in his room, but he felt their textures. He tried pushing a mug. Instead, he pushed a ghostly "replica" of the mug out of the real thing. The duplicate mug was transparent as if somebody had turned down its opacity. A few seconds later, it disappeared. This was…this was insane.

"You have successfully connected to the mock avatar," the woman said. "This is how the connection to the true avatar will function. If you wish to leave the avatar, close its eyes. Move the circle back to your own figure. Then close the avatar connection. You can do this at any time. Should you have a reason to flee the world, the Avatar Connection will always be visible to you. You can close it and instantly sever the bond. Be warned, the experience will be disorienting."

The words hovered in front of Khalil, but he did not pay them any attention to them at first. He tried walking around his room as the astral projection, staring at everything.

"This is crazy…" he said. "Bro, I'm not gonna lie, this is insane. Like…" His thoughts trailed off. He did not even know what to say. The experience was so surreal.

After walking around for a bit, he finally noticed the woman's words, still floating in the air. After reading them, he tried severing the connection by mentally closing the doorway. The transition from standing to laying on his bed was instantaneous and it took a few seconds to get over the disorientation. If he understood this correctly, he could disconnect whenever he wanted. All he had to do was close the door.

What was the point of the slider though? He opened the doorway and moved the slider to the middle. Nausea instantly overwhelmed him as he inhabited two bodies at the same time. He panic-closed the connection. The lady said he could severe but warned that the experience would be disorienting. She was not kidding. It felt like the entire room was rolling. Stars danced in his eyes. When he recovered, he picked up his phone and shot a text to Daniel.

Khalil: Bro something crazy's happened. we need 2 talk Daniel: What? Khalil: this thing showed up in my garage. like a vr headset but–

He stopped typing. This was some Area 51 shit he was dealing with. It had to be. He shouldn't be texting people about it or letting anybody know he had it. So he deleted the message and typed up another one. Khalil: nvm sorry. meant to send that 2 somebody else Daniel: ??? Khalil: dont worry bout it. Its nothing. He put the phone down before Daniel could respond, then he put the headset or rather the "Helmet of The Avatar", back on. He was too deep in whatever this was now. A new array of words appeared.

"Connect to the mock avatar."

He did as instructed. He found himself standing in his room as a projection once again.

"Always make sure you are lying or sitting when you open the link," the woman said. "Otherwise you will risk injury. The Helmet of The Avatar will sustain your vital life functions, but it will not prevent you from falling or injuring yourself. You may adjust the connection to control both bodies at once…but you are just starting so this is not recommended."

"No shit," Khalil muttered.

"You have passed the first trial, the Trial of Possession. It is now time to pass the second trial, the Trial of Combat."

"What…what?"

What did she mean "trial of combat"? It didn't take long for his question to be answered. Mist coalesced into the air across his room, solidifying into a creature made of stars right in front of his closet. It was about four feet tall and it had long pointy ears like a goblin. A row of teeth jutted forth from the front of its face, raking the air. Textures loaded onto the wire-frame creature. Skin, carious and sallow, materialized before his very eyes. Sickly orange eyes with frog-like irises looked around. The bone white teeth clicked against each other.

What in the hell is that thing, Khalil thought, taking a few steps backwards.

When the entity appeared, several transparent circles and targeting sights materialized out of nowhere, as if glitching into existence, and locked in on the creature. Hovering above its head floated the following:

Dabbler, Lvl 3.

Threat: 1

"Threat: 1" was glowing in a green font.

"This is a neutral entity," the voice said. "Look above its head. The level represents the sum of its power, fortitude, and competence in battle. However, notice the lore that says 'threat'. This is your threat gauge. Focus on it and it will expand."

Khalil blinked his eyes, bewildered by the HUD that briefly appeared across his vision. "Wait, level three…" he said. "Whoa hold on, hold on…is this like a game?"

She did not answer him. So he sighed and focused on "threat: 1". When he did, a bar expanded next to the words, a scale that was green on one end and faded to red on the other. Two numbers were plotted on the scale: 1 and 3. The 1 was in the green while the 3 was slightly further toward the middle. It looked to be a 1-to-10 scale, but all the numbers after 3 were missing. An arrow currently hovered over the 1's position.

"The maximum danger this creature before you can pose to you is the greater of the numbers, which are written in your language," the voice explained. "Right now, it poses very little threat. This will change once it notices you. The creature you see before you is a mockup dabbler. It will mimic the behavior of an actual dabbler. It is not a threat to you until you approach it. Then it will become hostile. You can close the scale at any time, but leave it open for now. It will become relevant soon. You are currently unarmed. Raise your hand–"

"Yo, hold on, Ma'am!" Khalil said. "Slow down and back up."

She did not slow down. Damn! Was she even listening?! Meanwhile the dabbler was hopping around and snarling. Somehow it did not see him. It was like him. It could not actually interact with the real world. Khalil didn't hear the rest of what she said, but her words hovered in the air.

"You are unarmed. Raise your hand. It does not matter which hand you favor."

Khalil could see that trying to get a response from this thing was useless. So he did as she instructed and raised his right arm. Instead of seeing his usual, brown-skinned hand, he saw a lattice of light motes in the shape of a hand rise into view. There were subtle details he noticed about the formation. They hinted at segments and machinery. The voice instructed him to summon the "weapon morphs" menu.

"Weapon morphs?" he repeated.

To his surprise, when he tried to imagine such a menu, a disk appeared floating over the back of his wrist. Above this disk, a series of squares appeared. All of them were empty except for one. It had a two-pronged silhouette in it. He was able to dismiss the menu with his mind and reopen it. He could scroll through the squares just by thinking about it.

"Oh man, I'm not gonna lie this is kinda sick…" he said. .

"Choose your weapon morph."

The two-pronged weapon was the only option he had. He was guided by intuition rather than by logic. With a thought, he it and flinched as a muscle twitched in his arm. A flash of light scanned his wrist, forming a weapon around his hand, a set of nasty-looking claws about ten inches long. Like the arms and the rest of his body, they were formed of the same matrix of light motes except these had a somewhat glassy appearance. Hovering above his hand briefly before dissolving were the words "twin claw."

"You are now armed. Your task…slay the dabbler."

"Uhh…" Khalil looked at the creature. It was currently trying to tear apart his clothes. It wasn't really there, and it wasn't having an actual affect on his clothes, but the device created ghostly afterimages and duplicates of his clothes getting shredded.

When he approached the creature, it began to turn toward him. Suddenly, it froze. Not in fear, it just simply froze. The simulation had paused. Khalil could still move, but the mockup dabbler looked like it was caught in stasis.

"Time has stopped for the mockup dabbler, Champion Akhil," the woman said. "This is a boon that will rarely be granted when you are transferred to the real avatar. It is for the benefit of your trial. Time will resume in a moment. Watch the threat gauge, champion."

The dabbler unfroze and when it saw Akhil, it shrieked. The arrow on the threat gauge, which was previously hovering over the 1, now slid over to the 3's position. The dabbler froze for a second time.

"Did you see it, champion? The threat to you increased. There are many other factors that can contribute to this, not just raw power, physique, ken, or overall ranking. You will learn what these are in due time. But for now, always look at the threat gauge and range when you encounter a new foe. The higher the number on the scale, the higher maximum danger even the most peaceful creature can pose to you."

"Yeah I see it. But–"

Time unfroze and the dabbler launched at him, its teeth glinting.

"Oh shit!"

The four foot tall creature tackled him. He felt the weight of it crash against his chest. A transparent blue diagram appeared in the top left corner just under the Avatar Connection symbol. It was a depiction of a humanoid sectioned into different body parts. Right now, its head flickered with flashes of red just as the creature gnawed on Khalil's face. A number appeared in the middle of the head: 70%…68%. It kept going down the longer the dabbler attacked. But oddly, the wounds did not hurt. They should have hurt, but they did not. Khalil was too panicked to think about the discrepancy. He flailed on the ground trying without success to throw the dabbler off him.

The thing clamped its teeth around his entire face like a bear trap, was gargling and growling. It scrabbled at his chest with its stumpy little legs, which had claws on their ends. The chest segment on the diagram began to flicker.

Khalil rolled around on the ground, banging into his bedpost. He was trapped. He punched at the creature's side with the twin claws and it squealed in agony. He felt its bite relax, then he grabbed the creature and threw it off. He should not have been able to do such a thing, but it hit the wall as if the Hulk had thrown it.

Khalil got up and scampered over his bed, putting distance between himself and the damn thing. Black ichor seeped from its wound and it gnashed the air. But when it saw him and it leapt up onto the bed, limping.

"Shit…fuck!" Khalil exclaimed.

He had to think on his feet. He grabbed one of the loose bedsheets that had been wadded up at the foot of the bed and threw it over the creature. Again, it was not the real bedsheet, but a ghostly replica of the real thing. The creature thrashed about as he wrapped it in the linen. Its teeth tore through the fabric and it would be free in seconds. But while he had it ensnared, he stabbed the struggling repeatedly with the twin claw. His technique was clumsy and it did not have any grace. But he stabbed again and again. The fabric had flowers of black spots blooming in its threads. The dabbler squealed as he attacked. Before long, it stopped moving.

"Oh shit…" he kept muttering again and again, followed by a few "what the hells". He was panting.

"You have slain the mockup dabbler," the woman said. "But you are wounded."

His vision dimmed, highlighting the humanoid diagram.

"This is your Integrity Display," she said. "It represents your health and well-being." Each body part had a number in front of it to indicate its integrity or health.. Instead, the more damage he took, the lower the percentage became and the more the affected section color-shifted to red. It was an intuitive system. He had seen many like it in the video games he played. What had this thing said earlier? "The lore you see has been tailored to appear before you in a recognizable, intuitive form, based on lore from your world."

"You are damaged. Plunge your fist into the dabbler's corpse and drain its essence."

Khalil took a few moments to register what she had said. Then he approached the dabbler's body, hesitated, and plunged his fist into its chest. For a second or two, nothing happened. But then his arm glowed and ribbons of light danced upward like wisps of smoke. They wrapped around the length of his arm as they were absorbed into his body. A small, barely noticeable number counter appeared, hovering over his arm. It shot upward as he extracted the light. The chest and head diagrams shifted back to blue. But the ribbons…the "essence" kept draining from the body.

"Good job Champion Khalil," the voice said. "When you are wounded in battle, you must drain essence in order to heal your vessel's wounds. You can drain it from a corpse or from your enemies in combat. But be mindful of the latter, you must maintain unbroken contact in order to begin the process. Most enemies will not stay still and allow this to happen. And not all enemies can be drained. There are other ways to mend your wounds, but that will be taught in due time. If there is no essence, your body will slowly repair itself."

This message faded and another replaced it.

"The second part of the combat trial will proceed."

Two more mockup dabblers spawned into existence. One on Khalil's bed, and the other right next to his door. They both snarled at him. The threat gauge hovered over both of their heads. Both of them said "5" this time.

"You have passed the second trial. Your weapon morph, enhanced by the access essence you drained, is now sharper than it was before. Now use it to slay your foes."

"Two at once? Ma'am! You've got to be kidding me!"

The first one launched at him and he stepped to the side, barely managing to dodge it. The creature crashed into his clothes drawer. The second one leapt onto his back. He danced around with the thing clinging to him like a backpack. He rammed his back into the wall again and again, tripped and fell. The impact of the floor with the dabbler's body stunned it. He raised the twin blade and he was about to stab it, but the first one was already charging at him again. It bit down on one of his legs. The leg and shoulder sections of the Integrity Diagram flashed, quickly shifting toward the red.

Screaming, he kicked at it with his free leg, stomping against its teeth until they broke off. As soon as he kicked free, Khalil launched himself on top of it and stabbed it do death. The creature's black blood spread on his carpet like an oil spill. The second dabbler was getting up, but it was disoriented. Khalil did not give it a chance to recover. He slashed, he stabbed, he punched and kicked. He didn't stop until the creature was dead.

The integrity display showed that his legs and shoulders were very wounded. He did not feel the pain. Rather, they felt…"off". The had less sensation than they did before. What did she say to do? Drain essence? He plunged his hands into one of the corpses and began to drain the essence. Again, a small number appeared over his right arm. The more essence he drained, the more sensation returned to his wounded extremities.

"Congratulations, Champion Khalil," the voice said. "You have passed the combat trial. There is one more trial you need to pass until you are ready to be transferred to Skrul."

"The hell is 'Skrul'?" Khalil asked. She did not answer, of course.

"The third trial: The Trial of Life will now begin."

The ground rumbled and the walls shook. Cracks, superimposed upon reality itself, fissured along the floor. White light poured from them, painting stripes on the ceiling. Before Khalil could react, something burst from the floor. Something sharp, jagged, and glistening. He felt something punch through his chest and lift him off the ground. Spike-like crystals had torn through the concrete and impaled his body. The integrity display immediately flashed red all around. It glitched. His body sparked, then it exploded.

The crystal spikes retreated into the ground and the fissure disappeared. Khalil did not feel anything. He was a numb disembodied phantom gaping at the spot where he died. In his place was a white swirl of light. A countdown, starting from five, appeared above it, but it froze when it reached three.

"You have now experienced death, Champion Khalil," the woman said. "But death for you is a mere penalty. A countdown has begun. When it is finished, you will reform, damaged, but alive. This penalty will double every time you die. But it will reset at the start of a new day. Be mindful of this."

The countdown resumed. And when it reached zero, the mockup avatar rematerialized. Khalil felt his consciousness get sucked into it.

"Congratulations, Champion Khalil. You have passed all three trials. You are now ready to answer your summons and enter the world of Skrul."

The floor shook and something rose from it near his closet. It was and arch carved from gold, shaped to resemble vines and it held within its span a field of gray distortions.

"This is the entry gate. Once you step through, you will establish a connection to Skrul. You will begin the process of connecting to your true avatar for the very first time. Once the link is established, this gate will no longer be needed. You will be able to use the Avatar Connection whenever you please. You are ready, Champion Akhil. A new world awaits, a new people await. Friends and foes alike are on the other side. Step on through and you awaken anew, ready to meet wonders and terrors."

Khalil just stood there and stared at the shimmering gate. It was eerily silent. Who made this program? he thought. And what for? Thousands of questions ran through his head. But he felt adrenaline coursing through him. Fighting those dabblers had given him a thrill, a little taste of what was to come. The gate called to him, beckoning him to step on through. He approached its threshold, looking it up and down. Then he stepped in.

"Welcome to Skrul," The voice said before everything went dark. 

Chapter 6: Introductions 

Naia was tired of the wet darkness. She was tired of living underground, tired of stepping through silt. She missed the surface, seeing the sky and looking out over the trees. Down here, it was an oppressive nightmare. For days they had been on the run from the relentless skin rippers, who never gave up their pursuit. The mines were labyrinthian. Cave-ins changed their plans and they had to find a new way out. They were running low on both food, water, and lantern oil. All the while, the skin rippers were on their scent.

The party could throw the abominations off, but it seemed like the things only needed a day to catch up. Naia's father and Quillen were able to scavenge some more leftover flash-clay to use as weapons or to seal off passages, But it was dangerous to use. The skin-rippers were not the only danger. The air itself could be a foe. Glasswort was a problem in these mines. These passages were usually marked with warnings if the deadly fungus was present, but it had been a long time since anybody placed these signs. It was hard to tell whether the toxins now filled previously safe-to-travel mine shafts or not.

Quillen and Jerell pushed the cart containing the statue, grunting as they did. Neither of them spoke, as speaking required too much energy and they were exhausted. And yet they pushed. The minecart grumbled as it rolled. Naia could feel the walls of the mountain closing in around them. She tried not to think about it, tried to ignore the choking feeling that clutched her chest.

"Do you see that?" Jerell grunted. "Up ahead?"

"Mmmf…" Quillen answered. "Light.

They were both right. There was a light up ahead, a sign of hope. Soon, the passage opened up and deposited them into a large dome-shaped chamber. Clusters of light dotted its dome and ran in fissures.

"Sun crystals…" Quillen said.

Naia was filled with relief. Sun crystals captured the sun's light and transferred it along their length. Because of its unusual optics, they were often used as natural lighting in dark underground places. This meant they must be closer to the surface. The bad news was…the track stopped here. Something had broken it off and the rest of the track lay scattered among the walls. Jerell left the cart behind and went ahead to inspect the tunnel. He came back later with a frown on his face.

"It's no good," he said. "It's broken and rusted."

Quillen slumped to the ground and spread his wings out, looking up at the glowing sun crystals. "We cannot leave it here," he said.

"I think we will have no choice–"

"We will NOT leave it here!"

Jerell opened his mouth to say something, but he decided against it. So he just chose a spot along the wall and took a seat. Naia looked between the two of them. The tensions between her father and the Feyaran have been escalating over the past few days. They had become short-tempered and quick to bite.

"They will catch up to us," Jerell croaked. "They always do. We have no weapons. We are running out of food and water. We will die."

"Take your daughter and go, then," Quillen said.

Jerell seemed to consider it. He looked at Naia, got back up.

"I am going to go look ahead," he said, grabbing the canteens. "I think I hear running water."

Naia thought she heard it too. It wasn't loud, but there was a definite trickle nearby. After her father left the chamber, she took a seat on the floor across from Quillen.

"Quillen," she said. "We did everything we could. I don't want those things to catch us."

He did not respond at first. Quillen had his head ducked and his beak parted. He was panting.

"You will go with your father if he leaves," he said. "But I will stay here."

Naia knew there was nothing she could say to change his mind, and she could not blame him. In a way, this was his life's work. She did not know his entire backstory, only that his own tutor had been in the Nikral's good graces. Quillen was never supposed to learn Kelast. His tutor was never supposed to teach him about it. And yet she did. Why? He never said why. How she managed to do this under the Lords' watch without them noticing was anybody's guess. But what Quillen learned ignited a fire in his chest. He bartered, traded, and at times, even blackmailed people for the illegal texts. And what he learned led him to this moment.

They were both sharing a room with a piece of Kelast lore. The statue lay with its back resting on the front of the minecart. Naia remembered Thomin's skepticism. Were they really pinning their hopes on this? The skin rippers had decimated their colony. Naia could still hear the screams when she closed her eyes. She tried to avoid looking down the tunnel from which they had come, afraid to see one of those shambling, malformed horrors peering out of the darkness, wearing the skin of her former comrades.

Jerell returned with full canteens. He gave one to Quillen and the other to Naia. She removed the cap and drank.

"We need you, Quillen," Jerell said. "I know the sacrifice we would be making if we left–"

"–You do not," Quillen cut him off. "And I will not hear another–"

"–We have reached the end of the line!" Jerell shouted. "We can go no further! We need to get out of these damn mines, find the survivors and regroup! And we need you! You are invaluable! It has all gone to shale! Do you not see that?"

After a few deep breaths, his voice softened. "You brought us this far," he said. "We uncovered a lore that extends beyond the Lords' reach. But what good is it to us if we are dead?"

"We cannot let it fall into enemy hands," Quillen said. "We already lost one. We will not lose another."

"What do you think happened to it?" Naia asked.

Quillen looked at her with rue in his eyes. "I do not know," he said.

"Skin rippers are interest in flesh," Jerell said. "They ignore anything without it. Look, we need to get out of here and regroup. We can come back later and retrieve it."

"I am not worried about the skin rippers," Quillen said. "The reaver concerns me. It–"

A loud crack filled the room, causing all three of them to flinch. They looked around in confusion.

"What was that?" Jerell asked.

Another crack followed, louder than the first. Quillen shot up and whirled around, stumbling back a few steps. That had come from the minecart. Naia got to her feet. A third crack followed and this time, all three of them could see it. A fissure ran up the statue's arm. Pieces of sediment crumbled away and fell from it. Nobody spoke. Not a word was said. Naia could feel her heart racing in her chest as the stone continued to fall away like crust, revealing something hidden beneath its surface.

The stone continued to break. The rock covering the arm cracked apart as if it were an egg shell and a metallic hand flopped out, opening and closing its sharp fingers. Each knuckle was segmented and between each segment shone a deep red light that pulsed. Fissures continued to run up the arm, causing large slabs to fall away. The arm, like the hand and fingers, was also metallic. There was a slight, oily sheen to its surface and it pulsed with the same red light. The statue disintegrated as the figure shifted. Dust rose up in plumes. More stone fell away as the figure sat upright. The last piece to fall was the crust covering the figure's head.

It grabbed the sides of the minecart and stood upright, causing the bits of remaining dust and sentiment to slide off. Naia tried to process what she was seeing. The figure was tall and powerful, like a suit of armor. And yet parts of it reminded her of an insect. Gone was the stone and the crystal elements. Instead metallic segments continued to cover its body like insect carapace, allowing it to flex and stretch.

There were parts of the body that did not have the carapace, sections where its "skin" showed. But it was not flesh as she knew it No, the skin looked like leather…if leather could be formed out of dark metal. That was the best way to describe it. It was black, had a dull metallic glint, but it flexed.

The being, which had its back to them, examined its fingers, each of which looked sharp enough to rend flesh. It raised his arms, turned him over as it examined their contours. A ropelike black weave, similar in coloring to its skin, snaked up its neck and attached to the helmet. At least Naia assumed it was a helmet, she could not see the entity's face.

The avatar put its arms down, looked down at the minecart. Then it climbed over, almost hesitantly. Its feet clomped onto the stone. It lifted up a foot and looked at it. The light from the sun crystals gleamed off the avatar's surface, glimmering as it moved. It looked up, examined the cavern, stumbling a bit, its feet tapping. It turned around toward them, lowered its gaze, and that's when it saw them.

The avatar's head was mostly a single piece of metal which was angular near the backside, but it rounded off as it curved toward the front. It did not have eyes, nose, or ears. It had the slits in the side of its head where its ears should have been. Instead of a face, it had two upside-down teardrop shaped impressions. A pair of metallic protrusions extended slightly beyond the entity's "mouth" region from the sides of its cheeks like a natural extension of the head itself.

The being was terrifying…terrifying and majestic. It did not look like an ancient construct that had been left in the ground for thousands and thousands of years. It looked part suit of armor, part statue, and part insect. It looked immaculate, regal, and otherworldly, like a god or a mythical figure. The light within began to fade, but the being seemed to radiate power and danger. And it was staring right at them. It remained like that for a long time, just staring. Naia felt like her feet were rooted to the ground. She was afraid to move.

They had prepared for this. Whomever they managed to summon, the being would most likely have alien customs. It would probably look different from them and they, from it. It was agreed that if the avatar "awoke", they would let the entity within familiarize itself with its new surroundings before they made the introductions. After all, just seeing them could cause the entity inside the avatar to show hostility. So when it stared at them, they simply let it, not daring to make the first move.

However, the silence went on for an uncomfortably long time. Finally, Quillen, who shared a brief glance with Jerell, stepped forward, clearly trying to remain stoic. His feathers, which fluffed out a little, betrayed his apprehension. The construct turned its head toward him.

"Welcome, Avatar," he said. "Forgive me…we do not know how to address you. So I will start by introducing myself. I am Quillen, Lorewarden of Prince Merik's court. We know you come from another realm, and may not be familiar with us or our customs. Do you have a name we can call you by?"

It did not answer, but it did react. A thin blue beam shot forth from one of the depressions in its helmet, a line of light that swept over Quillen. The three of them flinched, but whatever the entity was doing, it did not appear to harm the Feyaran.

It turned to Jerell and did the same thing to him as it did to Quillen. A blur beam swept across him. Then it turned to Naia. She tensed as the ray of light brushed over her body. In her periphery, she saw her father place a palm on the handcannon he had on his belt. But besides leaving a bright after-image in her eyes, she felt nothing.

"Avatar…do you understand us?" Quillen asked, a little shaken.

It looked at him, remaining silent for a few moments. Finally, it spoke.

"Dude…what the hell…" it muttered. The voice, which seemed to resonate from within its body, was young, sounding about Naia's age. And it was male. It was the voice of a teenager. "Bro…this is so trippy…oh my god…"

Quillen exchanged another look with Jerell.

"Do you understand us, Avatar?" he repeated.

"Uh…yeah, I understand you," the avatar said, sounding almost hesitant. "Wait, do you…do you understand me?"

"Yes…we understand," Quillen said.

"Oh my god…this is crazy bro." The entity inside sounded like he was talking to himself rather than to any of them. "What the hell is going on?"