Darkness shrouds me. My frozen thoughts languidly come alive, already fidgeting to brave that unknown all around. Within moments, questions bubble up, filling up the void for a brief time.
What's going on? Where am I? How did I get here?
No answer is forthcoming, but that does not deter me. It feels right, the lack of- anything. I'm floating in an empty space, as concepts begin to seep in me, like that of space itself.
After a long beat, invisible gears click into place and turn in hiccuping motions. I hear a faint chime, the first sound I come to know, and it feels loud enough to pop nonexistent ears.
What was that? What feels different?
A screen slides into existence, and my awareness fills with the scribbles splattered all over the sheen surface. It gives off a faint light, faintly glowing in the dark shroud.
Trying to decipher the writings for a few moments leaves me with a feeling of wasted effort. However, the stinging quickly subsides. It's not like I'm in a hurry or anything. I can take my time to break it down and uncover its secrets.
I screen it, and, to my surprise, find a section I can fully understand.
9.9/10
I know what that means. I have 9.9 of something, out of 10 I can store. That's funny. Why isn't it full? I feel a twinge from deep within me, and-
9.8/10
Oh. Oh, that's not good. Very not good. Something is trickling down, and the budding new itch trying to scratch away at my sanity does not help my nerves. I need to do something about it, right now.
I flail around, trying to make something, anything, happen. Before I was just curious, and wanted to explore. Now I need to get something moving. I swiftly come to regret it. Lungs that I do not have squeeze with panicked effort and the stale, dimly lit air around me is suddenly in motion.
A newly made current flows forward from where I think my lips should be. It goes downward, escaping the light, as if trying to run away. Even as it does, I feel the tingle gnawing me grow stronger, starting to turn from a slight nuisance to a proper bother. I glance at the screen, trying to find a reason-
8.9/10
My nerves go awry. What's this, why is it happening, why to me, what did I do wrong, the number just went down on its own and I had nothing to do with that whole numbers business, to begin with-
The displaced air lightly breezes to its destination, hitting some distance away from the light's edge. Somehow, I can feel the flat surface that is the floor getting a very small bulge where it hits.
9.9/10
Oh. That was... yummy. Very much so. Even better, the itch is almost completely gone. Sure, it's back to what it was before, but it feels infinitely better now that I've seen the depths it can reach.
Feeling oddly empty, yet also much emptier than a few seconds ago, I end up staring at the screen. In my sudden terror, I missed a new screen coming to overtake the first. They're stuck on top of each other, and that has made the small circle of light grow. Now the little dent is visible.
My invisible eyes scan it.
Yes
Yes
Still Yes. What did you expect?
No
I'm not sure why I did that. What even is the point? It's not like I can even understand what it means. It's all gibberish. Maybe it does not have a real meaning at all, and it's just made to distract me and make me lose time? Sure, there are a few numbers close to the top, but they are not linked to this tickle-feeling I get deep within me.
A flickering thought has me refocusing on the older window. However, before I can mess around with phantom limbs, it springs back and forth on its own. At least that is easy to do. I just need to think about which one I want to bring up, it would seem.
I ignore most of the odd symbols, and focus on the numbers, the only thing that really matters. I stare at them, and to my great dismay, it happens again.
9.7/10
Ok. At least now I know it happens regardless of what I do. Which means I may as well continue to probe the darkness around me. Or, well. I would. If that itch at the back of my head didn't keep being a bother. So instead I keep blowing and blowing, slowly gathering up little windows.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
I continue to do so for quite a while. My newfound sense of time is not kind enough to grant me a precise measurement, but it does tell me I've been moving air for way too long. A little chime has my attention snapping back to the gathered boxes.
Yes
What's going on
You can't understand this?
No
Yes
Yes, please
Just agree already
No
Yes
Why aren't you accepting
Something feels wrong
No
Yes
I'm sorry, what just happened?
Really? On my first day on the job?
No
Yes
Why can't you?
This feels very wrong
No
Yes
You must be fu- fricking with me
It's stupid. They're not really a newborn. We should be able to curse. Why does it even matter, we're all dddddddddd-
NoooooooooooOOOoooOO-
Now I can understand what those scribbles mean. That's cool, I guess. My attention shifts back to what truly matters.
9.9/10
I stare at it for a few long seconds. It does not dare to tick down while I pay such close attention to it. I grumble, feeling happy deep inside thanks to that. Finally, I pay a closer look at the boxes. Putting the odd, half-complete one aside, there is a group that tells me I've been digging into stone. Which, well, fair. Looking at it from up above, from where I started, I did make quite a hole down there. Thankfully I can float. Before I can go on and look into the few unique ones, a soft chide catches my attention. Another set of screens flare into being, but these ones are different. The first group is clustered together next to where I came to. This set is colored bright red, and they feel warm inside of my consciousness. The words are written in a different way- oh, cool. I know words now, I guess.
I glance at brightly colored ones and squint.
...What does that even mean? I think I'd like to go back to eating rocks, especially because-
9.7/10
I knew it! The moment I stop looking at it, it goes down again. I should just ignore all these damn boxes, and just make sure the itch does not get too bad again by continuing to dig. The fact it's a very relaxing experience is surely just a nice aside. I don't want to be thinking about no slaying business. I'm doing just fine here on my own, eating rocks, and minding my stuff. It's not much, but I've already gotten attached to these brightly colored thingies, and Gods damn it I'm not in the mood for anything but a nice, rocky meal. I steadfastly ignore a shriller cry, mostly on principle, and get back to eating rock. Ignoring something I shouldn't be makes the gray goodness all the more tasty and filling.
I blink, as the horizon suddenly fills with big blue waves and flowing rivers, while the chime tries to pop my ears with a shrill cry. It quickly peters off Uh. Uuhh. I get the odd feeling that maybe, just maybe, a few more screens have manifested themselves.
...No, thank you. I think I'm going to keep eating rocks. I don't dare turn to look at what just screamed at me and keep minding my business. Hm. Rocks are tasty indeed. And they don't shout at me.
