I leaned forward, squinting, trying to see through snow so thick that it may as well have been a wall.
"Fucking work…"
Of course, they couldn't let me have the day off. No… absolutely not. The whole corporate machine would grind to a halt if Julian Vane were to miss a day of work. Entire industries would collapse; countries would be on their knees; heck, the world would never be the same again.
"Dicks."
The blizzard of the century, and there I was, driving home from work. I was fairly certain that I was still on the main road, but honestly, it was hard to say. The only silver lining was that I appeared to be the only person stupid enough to be out.
"Famous last words, Julian."
It didn't help that after the five-minute trek to my car, I'd turned into a walking snowman. That same snow was now melting in my warm car. The result? My windscreen was foggier than a '90s nightclub. I reached forward, attempting to clear the glass with the back of my hand.
Wait… what was that? There was something out there. Lights? Were they coming closer?
"Oh shit. A truck."
Tyres screeching. Horns honking. A few colourful swear words. As death drew me into its cold, sweet embrace, I had one thought to console me…
At least I'd made it to work that day and hadn't let the company down.
"Wake up, human…"
Huh, what was that?
I stirred as my consciousness gradually returned. There was light, and it must have been bright because it was obvious despite the fact my eyes were still closed. I listened, expecting to hear the beeping of machines and the voices of doctors and nurses.
No… it was quiet, calm. I was pretty sure I could even hear the faint sounds of birdsong.
Huh?
"Wake up, human!"
The voice was more insistent this time. Even though it sounded robotic, it absolutely dripped with arrogance. I imagine it was the sort of voice a medieval king would use if forced to talk to the lowliest peasant in the land.
"I'm no peasant, dick," I slurred.
My brain was clearly not functioning at 100% yet. The voice didn't respond directly, but assuming it wasn't my imagination playing tricks on me, I'm fairly certain I heard a faint 'fucking humans'.
Well, I showed him anyway.
Just as I started to doze off, I felt two sharp prongs sink into my skin, and then… zap.
The fucker electrocuted me.
I jerked upright, my whole body spasms wildly. I'd seen many videos of people being tasered, and I always assumed they were massive pussies when they rolled around on the floor and pissed themselves. I was wrong. Well, either that, or I too was a pussy. Though I can say with some sense of pride that I did not piss myself… much.
"Okay, I'm awake!" I roared, my face the picture of righteous indignation. Who would be enough of an asshole to wake me up like that?
Bright sunlight flooded the room, and I blinked rapidly and squinted, taking in my surroundings. I was in a log cabin of some sort. Sunlight streamed through the windows. The air was warm. A gentle breeze blew through the room.
How the shit did I go from driving in a blizzard to being in a log cabin with glorious weather? A few possibilities drifted through my mind.
Heaven? Hmm, perhaps God was also a fan of corporate entities. Did my turning up to work on such a miserable day earn me a place in the pearly city? That seemed unlikely.
Hell? Well, I did get electrocuted. Perhaps that was just the first round of torture. Nah, hell was meant to be fire and brimstone, not a pleasant 30° Celsius with a delightfully cool breeze.
I glanced down and noticed I was no longer in my work clothes. Instead, I was in generic medieval peasant garb. You know the type: simple, hardwearing, and pretty damn fashionable... in my opinion.
"Human!" came the voice again, every word laced with utter exasperation.
I looked around, confused. Who was talking to me?
"Up here, moron."
Huh?
"What the fuck!" I screamed, half falling, half rolling out of the bed.
I scrambled away and jumped to my feet, assuming my most intimidating stance. I imagine it's what Bruce Lee would have looked like… if he had never taken any lessons, suffered a bad blow to the head, and drank several litres of vodka. All in all, I think it was fairly intimidating.
The robot did not.
It hovered around seven feet off the floor. It was essentially a… sphere. A big glowy one, with a large screen on the front. Now, it had no facial features to speak of, but somehow, I could still sense its contempt. And it had lots of that.
"Right, good," it began. And then it cleared its… throat? "My name is ARCHON-734 and I have been tasked with carrying out your Initiation Briefing."
I held up my hand.
"I was going to save questions until the end," it said, evidently frustrated that I had dared to interrupt.
My hand stayed up. It sighed.
"Very well… one question. After that, I will shock you if you interrupt again."
"Thank you. First, you're a dick for shocking me. That was not necessary at all. Second…," I began, but then found myself a little lost for words. "Second… you're a robot."
"Was that supposed to be a question? You know, I have had the misfortune of dealing with many of your kind over the years, but you are the most idiotic by far. I am half tempted to contact the Overseer and let him know we have a defective candidate."
I stood staring at it, one eyebrow raised questioningly. It sighed again.
"Yes, I am a robot… at least by your primitive understanding of the word."
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it? I might be 'the most idiotic by far', but at least I listened when my mom told me that being polite costs nothing," I said.
Honestly, at that point, I was fairly certain I'd lost my mind. Otherwise, I don't think I'd be stupid enough to antagonise an electrocuting robot that appeared to have a stick up its ass. Probably.
"As I was saying," it continued. If anything, it sounded even haughtier than before. "You have been chosen – for a reason beyond my ability to comprehend – to compete in the Participation Trials for next year's Galaxy Showdown."
The part of me that was still convinced I was in some sort of drug-induced mania was tempted to continue goading the uptight bastard, but I decided against it.
"Galaxy Showdown? What's that? Some sort of gameshow?"
The robot started vibrating and emitting an angry buzzing. Whoops. Here comes the shock again.
"Galaxy Showdown is not a gameshow," it snapped. "It is this galaxy's premier form of entertainment, enjoyed by thousands of trillions of viewers every year. It is a year-long event, bringing together the finest prospects from countless civilizations to participate in the ultimate test of combat and survival."
"Hang on a second… you're saying that I'm one of the galaxy's finest prospects?" I asked. "Are you sure it's not because I was just about to be pancaked by an enormous truck?"
The robot once again cleared its non-existent throat.
"Well…" it said, losing a little of its bluster. "Due to ethical concerns raised by some of our… valued viewers, with the exception of voluntary applications, we are only allowed to select participants who would have otherwise died if they had stayed on their planet."
Ouch.
"Well, I appreciate the effort at least. I felt pretty good about myself, even if it was only for a few moments. So… the ultimate test of combat and survival? That sounds rather ominous."
"Ominous? Absolutely not!" it replied. "Galaxy Showdown is the purest form of entertainment, showcasing our participants' skills, ambitions and resilience. There is no greater honour in the galaxy than being chosen to take part."
"Chosen to take part? You zap me off Earth without asking me first, electrocute me, and then constantly talk down to me. I'd say that sounds more like an abduction."
I could tell it was starting to grow irate again, so I held up my hands placatingly.
"Don't fry a circuit. Listen, I'm grateful. While I'm not entirely convinced that this is even real, it still sounds better than what's left of my body being wiped off the grill of a truck. So, when does it start?"
"Start?" it said, its voice dripping with disbelief.
Honestly, I was impressed that a lump of metal had such emotional range.
"One does not just take part in Galaxy Showdown. You have been chosen for the Participation Trials. Once this introduction is over, you will begin a one-year trial to test your worthiness. Your human limiter will be removed, allowing you to grow in strength throughout the period. If you survive and earn a place on the leaderboard, you will be allowed to participate."
I sat back down on the bed. It was a lot to take in. The galaxy? Human limiters? Survival? Leaderboards?
"And what happens if I don't earn a place on the leaderboard?"
"Well," it said, the disbelief very quickly replaced by smug pleasure. "Then you will experience the same fate you would have done had we not pulled you from Earth."
I sighed.
"Okay, let's assume for a moment that is real. What do I need to do to earn a place?"
"You will have one year to prove your worthiness. There are a number of factors that determine your position on the leaderboard: your acquired wealth, your total stat gains, your reputation and influence, your kill score, and a number of others that can be decided at the discretion of our panel of expert judges."
"Stat points? What ar… Hang on one fucking second. Did you say, 'kill score'? You want me to kill people?"
"That is up to you. However, what better way to prove you are more worthy than the competition than to eliminate them?"
"I…" I began, but the robot cut me off.
"Well, I think that just about covers everything. You will find everything you need to get started in this cabin. There is a year's supply of food in the cupboards over there," it said, using a laser pointer to indicate the location. "And there are some basic survival tools on the table."
And with that… it started to phase out of existence. I could swear it was laughing as it did so…
Stupid robotic prick.