Frank Briggs

Sweat ran in rivers down the sides of franks face. It mingled with his tears as he sobbed, partly from exertion but mostly in mourning. He knelt over the shredded body of Dickory, softly petting its blood matted fur.

Hickory and Dock stood on their hind legs nuzzling the bereft boy from either side. Frank had made it to level fifty in record time, only losing one of his drones in the process. The remaining Personal Combat Drones were lined up on the ground getting field repairs made to them from the three repair drones.

It had been a blast. He had controlled the drones like an extension of himself and had gotten the most use from his A.I. as he could. It had known a surprising amount of information about the levels, he had just needed to ask the right questions. The interface goggles lay discarded beside him, taken off after his tears had fogged the glass over too much to see.

“Excellent work Mr. Briggs,” came the synthesized voice of the Shipwright. “That was the best performance I have seen from any of the human souls.” The mechanical octopus was watching the boy through a screen hovering in the air above him.

“What does it matter?” Frank sobbed out still cradling the body of his dead rat companion. “Dickory is Gone, I thought the floor was clear. I never would have sent him into the open like that otherwise.” He tried to explain what had happened, to make the World Lord understand how he was feeling.

“Ah, the noises you are making are those of sorrow I take it?” the Shipwright had long ago converted himself and all his worlds to mechanical constructs. Things like emotions were not something he had had to deal with recently.

“Of course, I’m crying.” Frank said between sobs, baffled by the question. “I just lost someone dear to me, again.” he continued, turning back to the body.

“I understand the problem now.” The Shipwright said, its tentacles whirring around with pride for its quick understanding of the situation. “This loss is of no concern.”

Frank was a good-natured kid, he got picked on a lot about his weight and he took it. He got bullied because he enjoyed LARPing, and he let it go. This however was about to piss him off. He had been killed, KILLED, when the losing general at his latest LARP battle, who was also his cousin, shoved him off the balcony.

He had wound up in a white box. Been thrown into a swamp, and then forced to kill his way across it. To earn the right to have these new friends. Then this tentacle waving asshole has the nerve to say its ‘of no concern’ that was it. He began to rise to his feet when the world winked out.

He came to himself standing in a room very similar to the starting room to the maze he just ran. The drones were all there, fully repaired. There was also a new set of goggles on a nearby shelf, they looked sleeker and higher tech then the last pair.

The only thing that mattered to Frank Briggs though was the three dire rats sitting at his feet.

“Dickory, your alive!” He said, throwing himself at the rat. All traces of anger forgotten in his happiness, fresh tears running down his face.

“Yes, it was a simple matter to reconstruct the biological drone.” The Shipwright buzzed, pleased with itself. “With time and training it is a feat that you could accomplish yourself Mr. Briggs.”

“Really?” The boy asked excitedly, “How do I start?” He was ready to try right now.

“Simple. By making it to level one hundred in this labyrinth.” The Shipwright replied shamelessly.

* * *

Specter

Specter did not know how to treat these human souls. They were young, weak, and still tethered to their physical forms. She didn’t remember what it was like having a physical body, her avatar was the closest she had come in eons to taking an actual form.

She looked at her avatar again, still bemused that she had allowed the others to talk her into it. It was little more then a tattered black cloak ripped and dirtied by time. It did not have legs, instead gliding a foot above the ground when she moved.

The hood was pulled low, the opening a void in space. Whisps of purple energy leaked from the cloak at every opening, rip and tear. Her hands were skeletal, just bones held together by more of that same energy.

It was pleasing to her eye in some ways, in others it was an abomination to what she had tried to achieve for her entire existence. She lived in the void between stars, never setting foot upon a planets surface unless she had to. Her creations were incorporeal beasts, some as large as entire moons. They drifted endlessly, looking always for paths never tread.

She looked at the human souls again, each still stuck in their white nothingness. The females all seemed to have swelling around the chest area that her avatar lacked. Frowning mentally, she commanded that area to grow. She didn’t really know if she had done it right. It was hard to add definition to a ghost after all.

She pulled up a screen of Morrigan’s avatar, and decided to just copy her bust. There, that was easy. Now what to do with these humans. She looked at what the others were doing with theirs, trying to find inspiration.

Granite was just killing them endlessly; she didn’t really see how that would help. Shipwright and Erlking were putting them through tests. Morrigan was making hers fight each other over and over again. she flicked through a few more screens checking in on the others, nothing worth commenting on really.

She was starting to get bored. One of her creations had told her some time ago that a new nebula had formed that she had yet to explore. She wondered if human souls liked to explore, then decided she didn’t care.

Pulling space together into a clear dome protected from the vacuum she transported her human souls into it. Like it or not they were going to come explore the universe with her.

* * *

Arbiter

The Arbiter watched as Specter built an impromptu spaceship and went exploring with her allotted souls. He was a little worried about the lack of accommodations that her ‘ship’ held, but he needn’t have. As it traversed across the emptiness of space it slowly morphed into something humans could tolerate. It seemed that she was taking input from her passengers and adjusting accordingly.

He was honestly happy to see them go. Being lost in the void wouldn’t save them if the universe was destroyed but at least they weren’t being forced to die repeatedly. That Specter was an odd one, it looked like the introduction of the human souls had actually been good for her.

She wasn’t the only one either. The Arbiter looked at the Shipwright’s interactions with Frank Briggs. The mechanical monster had actually attempted empathy with another creature. It might not have done such a good job of it, but it was more then it had tried since it gave up its mortal form.

Two cases did not a pattern make, he knew, but he was starting to wonder. Did the Creator send the human souls here in a bid to help the World lords in some way other then as soldiers? he couldn’t hope to understand the Creator’s designs, he would be watching closely however for further developments.