email: timothy gold

Science fiction writing.

Draconix.

This is an early draft and pre-release.

Written by hand (without LLMs) except for spell checking / grammer checking and research.

Chapter 1

It was a typical day on Velon's planet, with a warm mist floating through the cramped and compact pods stacked up to form tall skyscrapers in the heavily populated center. The mist carried the scent of ozone and synthetic lavender, a constant reminder of the planet's advanced climate control systems. In a pod high up in one of these megastructures, Velon was with her boyfriend Kent enjoying a relaxing afternoon. The telescreen was on in the corner, casting a soft glow over the room. Kent sparked up a cigarette, and Velon rolled over to enable an extraction fan for the smoke.

"Why do you smoke those archaic things, Kent?" Velon complained, getting out of bed and putting on her typical one-piece bodysuit. Kent admired her as she did so. The material of Velon's bodysuit hugged her body and was made from an incredibly lightweight, flexible but strong material able to block out electromagnetic radiation.

Kent enjoyed a drag and exhaled smoke. "The passage of time will kill you..." he said warmly. These weren't cigarettes as we might think of them, but synthetic ones doused with interesting drugs to cause brief euphoria. To make them realistic, the cigarette makers included a few toxins to decrease the lifespan of their customer base.

"Yes, but the passage of time doesn't make you infertile or impotent," Velon retorted successfully, causing a brief worried look upon Kent's face. Brief euphoria kicked in, and Kent quickly reclaimed his composure and cool thinking to himself: "At least I look cool."

"Well, I think it eventually does, actually... it's called old age," Kent said. "Besides, they can cure any disease or ill these days."

Velon smiled wryly. "Yes, old age is a choice these days." She paused, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Dare I ask how old you really are?"

"I've been twenty-nine for the past fifty years," Kent said sarcastically. He looked twenty-nine, but you never could tell these days with the advanced treatments usually open to the extremely wealthy.

"Don't worry, I'm not rich enough to postpone the passage of time. I'm actually thirty-three," Kent said, sounding noticeably sad.

"Good!" Velon said relieved.

Velon's world was both fantastically advanced and medieval in some ways. Things like smoking were a remnant of the distant past, but people still did it out of some weird nostalgia. Politics on Velon's planet hadn't evolved much either and was largely the domain of narcissistic, egocentric maniacs still unfortunately at large even in advanced futuristic civilizations.

Even a telescreen was passé; most people watched video content inside their own brains using virtual reality technology via neural interfaces. Velon enjoyed some nostalgia like telescreens but disapproved of smoking.

Velon was an attractive female on a planet in a typical part of the galaxy, and although she could spend all day being frivolous with Kent, she felt a sense of duty to monitor her vast array of simulated environments. Velon's planet was sufficiently scientifically and spiritually advanced so that the inhabitants were free to explore any pursuit they desired. There was no need for money or limiting social hierarchies except for certain areas of society that liked having wealth to buy memories, pleasure simulations or illegal items or substances. By and large anything anyone needed or wanted to explore in any particular artistic or scientific direction was manifested at whim. Velon had an aptitude for simulation theory and worked in a simulation control center in most of her "free" time.

Despite the advanced technology, Velon's planet still grappled with age-old political issues. They endlessly debated the ethics of simulated realities in secret chambers deep beneath the city. While they never resolved to any concrete resolution or agreement the rampant use of simulation tech continued unabated.

Later that day, Velon sat at her terminal monitoring hundreds of simulated realities & multiverses like any other day. One of the simulations was showing some strange patterns. "Not the Draconix..." Velon complained out loud. "They have imprisoned another class B planet and enslaved all their inhabitants in a quantum simulation containment system... again!"

Velon brought up an info screen on a computer terminal and started reading the extensive file on the Draconix. This file was informed by her current simulation, and she had different versions of this info sheet for each simulation she had evolved Draconix inside.

"Draconix are a type B life form considered extremely dangerous. Highly ingenious and should never be evolved or simulated without sandboxing and segmentation of the containing systems for longer than three billion local years. In some extremely rare cases, Draconix have been known to break out of naive or poorly implemented environments."

Velon continued reading, her brow furrowed in concern:

"Draconix are an advanced extraterrestrial race of humanoid reptilian lineage that always end up carving out a substantial chunk of any simulated universe they inhabit over the simulated millennia due to their ruthlessness, expertise and intelligence. When the Draconix encounter a planet that they want that unfortunately already has lesser developed inhabitants, they model the planet and generate a like-for-like replica simulation that they can use to covertly hoodwink the unsuspecting lifeforms."

As she read on, Velon couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. The Draconix were masters of manipulation, creating simulations within simulations, trapping entire civilizations in digital prisons without them even realizing it.

Velon had been warned not to evolve simulations with Draconix for too long because the time within a simulation goes much faster than in the real world. Draconix develop quickly and are ingeniously clever. Velon had added safeguards to stop Draconix from doing too much damage. They were not allowed to access every part of the simulated multi-verse due to blocks on the frequency of consciousness Draconix operate at.

The file continued, detailing the physical appearance and abilities of the Draconix:

"Draconix stand on two legs and are typically at least 9 feet tall with long tails and thick scaly reptilian skin and can live for hundreds, sometimes thousands of years within the simulations. Sometimes they figure out ways to extend their lives further by transferring their consciousness into younger Draconix. They have human-like eyes with incredible eye sight except that they have slits instead of circular pupils."

Velon's unease grew as she read about the Draconix's ability to infiltrate various planes of the simulated multiverse:

"They are able to infiltrate various planes of the simulated multiverse to discover other Draconix and influence lesser advanced lifeforms exploring via astral projection or via use of hallucinogenic drugs. The all seeing eye commonly reported in visions of the naive and innocent civilisations exploring the ethereal planes are commonly such manifestations of the Draconix."

The file went on to describe the Draconix's modus operandi when enslaving a new planet, creating singularities and manipulating collective consciousness. Velon realized that in this particular simulation, there were no limits or constraints embedded to stop the Draconix. No benevolent galactic powers existed to police or stop them. The lower realms of this simulated universe were largely divided into Draconix or non-Draconix sectors.

Velon was consistently battling with the ethical quandaries of operating simulated multi-verses that contain sentient life albeit artificial sentient life. She knew that those life forms felt pain and largely had no idea they were simulated. They also had no way to escape from their simulated prisons.

Velon found it ironic how she kept Draconix and other life forms like pets inside a simulated environment, and the Draconix themselves used simulated universes to control and enslave others. She had no way to stop them at least in this particular simulation due to the free evolutionary paradigm involved. In other simulated environments, she had managed to avoid evolving Draconix through sheer luck. Free will or at least an artificial sense of it with simulated entities is a prerequisite to generate any meaningfully sophisticated multiverse.

Universes without free-will or clunky imposed rules quickly fizzle out and are normally quite boring.

Velon started to work on a program that would prevent the Draconix from causing any more damage, but before she could start generating an initial proof of concept, an even weirder set of signals started coming through her control set. "How is a Draconix able to interfere with the underlying system causing a ripple effect of this magnitude?" she thought to herself. This should be effectively impossible. Velon was and always had been reluctant to jack her consciousness into the simulation in the rare event that data or consciousness is allowed to escape.

One of the only times you might inject a temporary consciousness apparition into the sim is to stop a ripple effect of sufficient size affecting the wider sim negatively. It's incredibly risky for many reasons, including the rare case that a consciousness transfer occurs. Unfortunately, a ripple of over 17 zeks was registering. Velon had a nagging and sneaking suspicion that this was no normal ripple, but before she thought about it too long, she put on a headset and started spawning agents that she could control.

Her terminal windows immediately started glitching in a way that she had never seen before.

"What is going on?!" Velon exclaimed. Her headset was getting increasingly hot, and as she tried to disconnect the control cables, they were fused to the control panel due to excessive heat. Smoke began to appear at Velon's feet under the computer.

"How is this happening?" Velon looked around the large open-plan facility where she worked and noticed other terminals glitching and flashing with a mind of their own. Other confused terminal operators were standing up and looking around, startled and confused.

"We have had a system-level breach," an operator at the far side of the room shouted.

Chapter 2

Derek lived a relatively normal life as a fairly average humanoid. Leveraging his musical and technological talents as best he could, he navigated the complexities of young adulthood. However, acne-ridden teenage years had limited his romantic experiences to a single short-lived relationship. After coasting through school and developing a habit of smoking hashish, he ended up at a very average university.

Feeling slightly less socially evolved than his peers and obsessed with curiosities and conspiracies, Derek had a tendency to alienate himself from other students by rambling on about topics for a bit too long. His peers often found his discussions about abstract concepts and conspiracy theories tiresome, leading to his increasing withdrawal into his dorm room.

What Derek never suspected was that his world was a virtualized recreation extrapolated from a single point in time or cataclysmic event. Neither did he realize that all the weirdness, contradictions, and strange feelings he had about the world stemmed from that initial disconcerting cognitive dissonance. He was, in fact, not crazy or paranoid but one of the more sane humanoids who had not fully bought into the stream of consciousness presented to them.

Derek consistently found it odd how little his peers questioned or thought deeply about any topic. They seemed content to be distracted by toxic and brain-dead television programs, binge drinking, parties, or dabbling in experimental party drugs. He wondered why he consistently provoked a negative reaction at parties when discussing more abstract or complex topics and conspiracy theories. Often laughed at and made fun of, Derek increasingly became withdrawn in his dorm room.

Unbeknownst to Derek, the Draconix had been scoping out his planet for about twenty years. They were designing a sufficiently complex and high-fidelity virtual environment and provisioning enough pods for the bulk of the humanoids. The Draconix had determined a novel singularity and cataclysmic event that would work using a popular rock and roll group called "The Yellow Tops." This was a neat and new attempt to branch away from the typical bomb in a public place or terrifying public apparition the Draconix usually opted for.

Unfortunately for Derek Flake, this cataclysmic event had already happened on November 12, 2001, when he was only ten years old. It came in the form of a news bulletin propagated over television sets and radio. Billy Kimber, the lead singer of The Yellow Tops, had an argument with the rest of the band and stormed off to drive home in his swanky classic car. This car had a retractable roof and attractive circular headlights.

On the motorway, a Draconix using a temporal connection from a nearby spacecraft in orbit telepathically took control of Billy and caused him to crash into a tree. Billy's girlfriend was also in the car, and they both died instantly. A chemical agent with nanobots was released into the atmosphere, and within two hours, it had consumed the entire planet. Each inhabitant breathed in the aerosol, and the nanobots were timed to cause a deep sleep at the same time globally.

The news that Billy Kimber had died in a car crash was reported simultaneously across the planet, causing mass hysteria. The Yellow Tops were the most popular group in the world, with armies of screaming fans and widely regarded as a modern cultural icon. Their popular songs, like "I Love You So Much Baby," caused a veritable riot when performed. The shock of this news caused worldwide delirium, and within an hour of the news being digested, all of the inhabitants were put to sleep.

When each of the inhabitants of Derek's planet independently awoke, they had no idea they were now in the simulated world created by the Draconix using their vast computing resources and technologically advanced humanoid container pods. This technology had been refined and improved by the Draconix over the millennia to be nearly foolproof and perfect. Only the most heightened life forms with incredible psychic powers could escape or notice the difference. The technology involved adapting the individuals' memories and used their brain to reinforce the simulation, adding missing details. Each captive prisoner was also capable of running slightly different variations of the collective simulation in parallel.

Some inhabitants were effectively operating in their own world, divorced from the collective simulation. These prisoners tended to be egomaniacs, psychopaths, murderers, or those suffering mental problems. Some of those diagnosed with conditions like schizophrenia were, in fact, experiencing abnormalities within the collective simulation—tears, breaks, and joins within the fabric of the consensus reality.

Within a day or so, all of the inhabitants were now safely stored within nearby Draconix craft. None the wiser, with a slight adjustment to their memory so the news of Billy Kimber's death was effectively suppressed, apart from a few glitches and witnesses here and there. The Draconix, now in complete control of this simulated collective universe, were free to jack in and control key figures within society like politicians and secret service agents.

Billy Kimber, now dead, had to be replaced. The Draconix had already adapted the simulation to include a human sufficiently similar to Billy Kimber. Within the space of a few months, this look-alike Billy quickly assumed the role of band leader. He quickly got a new girlfriend who was less suspicious of the new Billy's lower voice, new entourage, weird quirks, and behavior, having never met the original Billy.

With the help of the secret services that were completely infiltrated by the Draconix and some coercion of the rest of The Yellow Tops, the mass collective of humanoids had been successfully duped, having no idea that they had been enslaved. They also had no idea that Billy Kimber was replaced, except for a few subtle clues left covertly in The Yellow Tops' subsequent albums by the rest of the now guilty and depressed band members.

The original Billy Kimber was left-handed, but the new Billy Kimber was annoyingly right-handed and required vocal training and plastic surgery. The new Billy was actually taller, but the majority of people didn't notice. However, his differences did not go unnoticed by some observant people who formed a "Billy is Dead" conspiracy theory early on. This had been a constant source of annoyance for the Draconix team tasked with monitoring and maintaining control of the fake reality they had contrived.

Chapter 3

Ten years had passed since the fateful night when the world unknowingly entered a simulated reality. Derek, now a university student, found himself in his dorm kitchen, surrounded by peers who seemed oblivious to the subtle changes in their world. As he listened to the classic Yellow Tops song "Shake Your Groove Thing Baby" from the album "Hot Potato Action," he suddenly burst into tears. The unexpected wave of emotion caught him off guard, leaving him bewildered.

"Have you ever noticed that the music after Hot Potato Action seems to adhere more to conventional music theory?" Derek asked aloud, addressing the group of students. "In some ways, it's a cheap pastiche of their earlier albums that felt more organic."

The other students looked confused, unsure how to respond to Derek's observation. Nancy, an attractive fellow dorm mate, replied lazily, "I guess... They have always been a bit cheesy." She chuckled, adding, "I mean, 'I Love You So Much Baby' is a terrible cheeseball of a song, right?"

Derek felt a surge of defensiveness. "I always liked that song!" he retorted, beginning to sing the verse:

"Ooh I like it when you dance" "Ohh I like it in my pants" "Ooh you do it to me baby" "I love you so much baby... Yeah!"

His enthusiastic rendition, complete with the classic Yellow Tops-style "yeah," caused everyone to laugh. Most of the room emptied as students headed to a nearby party.

"You're so weird, Derek, but I like you," Nancy said as she grabbed her trendy jacket and left the room.

Derek's mind immediately began racing with possibilities. He fancied Nancy and, in the classic way that only men can do, he started obsessing over her passing remark, mistaking it as a sign of deep affection. "Maybe university will be alright," he thought to himself, quickly imagining him and Nancy in a relationship, and then as a successful musician, artist, or businessman with her at his arm.

Weeks passed, and Derek found himself holed up in his narrow and cramped dorm room. Skint and living on baked beans, he was smoking his last blim of cheap soap bar hashish. Bingeing on the Yellow Tops' back catalog, he periodically broke into tears. His coursework and studies were falling behind, and he had begun a dangerous habit of taking a cheap designer drug called "bark."

Bark caused euphoria and kept users unnaturally awake for extended periods. Typically snorted and quickly addictive, users often developed a noticeable bark smell as the drug escaped through their pores. Those high on bark tended to talk incessantly, and combined with Derek's paranoia and obsession with conspiracy theories, it quickly became an unhealthy habit. Derek would attend lectures on bark, play drums in the music rooms, and generally loiter like a weirdo.

During a particularly long bark binge, after being awake for two days, Derek found himself staring at the back of a toilet door in a neighboring dorm. He was seeing a girl there called Klara, who had decided to spend all her money on bark so Derek and Klara could stay in her room talking about music and facilitating each other's downfall.

The back of the toilet door seemed to move and shift as Derek stared. "This isn't real, this isn't a real door," he spoke aloud, his voice barely above a whisper. The wooden door with thin plastic coating appeared to contort, reacting to his movement. He put his hand closer to the door, imagining it moving away. It reminded him of strange dreams he'd had where he could manipulate walls as if they were magnetically charged liquid, only to wake up shocked.

Feeling very strange, Derek ultimately returned to Klara's room to continue their unhealthy binge, thinking nothing more about the strange toilet door hallucination.

Years later, Derek found himself reminiscing about his university days. Still a committed hashish smoker, he had almost fainted once after running to catch an early train and then being forced to stand awkwardly in the busy carriage. He now worked as a computer programmer in the capital city for an incredibly annoying and work-obsessed boss. No one had the heart to tell her that her business idea was doomed to fail—a lazy imitation of a much more successful and established business that already had market share, aimed at a niche of customers that may or may not exist.

Derek's job was to fix and build upon a system abandoned by a previous contractor and get the business launched as soon as possible. This meant agonizing over technical decisions and working with the clunky and disjointed platform the previous contractor had bodged. Derek increasingly felt that the hard-to-debug issues and problems the system had were the reason the contractor had left. The previous contractor had spent most of the budget set aside for the work, leaving it 60% complete.

Late one evening at the office, Derek heard an interesting news article on the radio. The announcer excitedly reported: "Over 1 billion cyber attacks are detected and blocked at Cyber HQ in East Huffingdon every day at the coordinated cyber HQ of Flat World Telecoms." East Huffingdon, by some strange coincidence, was the last stop of the train line Derek took back from the city center to home. It was so far out of the capital that it was effectively in the countryside.

"Hmm, maybe I should check out East Huffingdon this weekend," Derek thought before powering down his computer. Emily, his boss, gave him a scornful glare. Her eyes seemed to say, "It is far too early to leave... I'm here until 10 PM and I expect you to be here until then." Derek didn't care at that point and was visualizing being back at his shared accommodation, smoking a small hashish joint and watching a comedy TV show. He strolled out to catch a train, unaware that this decision would lead him down a path that would challenge everything he thought he knew about reality.

Chapter 4

Kloot, a fairly average Draconix, sat at his terminal in his windowless "office pod," surrounded by the familiar glow of screens and the tangled mess of wires from his neuro-connectivity headset. His task was to monitor and occasionally interfere with the former inhabitants of planet EX10112001, now unwitting prisoners in a simulated reality.

Boredom was a constant companion in this isolated environment. To combat it, Kloot reached for his nanobot dispenser, a device capable of generating any known chemical or material. It was socially acceptable among the Draconix to use these devices for any purpose, including personal stimulation. With a practiced motion, Kloot designed a serum that would both keep him awake and pleasure his neuropathways. His reptilian physiology granted him an incredibly high tolerance for drugs and stimulants.

After injecting the serum into his thick, scaly skin, Kloot felt the compounds coursing through his system. The immediate rush confirmed that it had done the trick, preparing him for another long, thankless session in his work pod.

"This is weird," Kloot thought to himself as the anomaly detection algorithms spat out some unusual numbers he hadn't seen before. "He shouldn't be there. Why is this happening? He should never be able to get anywhere near a control facility."

One of the more curious humanoids had unexpectedly decided to visit a controlled area, catching Kloot off guard. Without sufficient warning, he couldn't alter the humanoid's consciousness stream or timeline to avoid potential issues. If a humanoid approached too close to a controlled area used by the Draconix to manage simulations from the inside, there was a risk of the humanoid noticing a glitch or temporal artifact. In extreme cases, they might even briefly see through the appearance filtering and detect reptilian features.

Using the power of thought alone, Kloot quickly generated some agents he could jack into and began preparation work for an altercation. "I can probably cause him to divert somewhere around here," Kloot thought, mentally marking a point on the temporal timeline that intersected with the humanoid's projected path.

Just as Kloot was focusing on the situation, Klim burst through the door, startling him. "Have you seen this?" Klim exclaimed, his voice tinged with excitement.

"Yes," Kloot replied, sounding very bored. "I'm working on it."

"Shall we just kill him?" Klim asked genuinely, his tone betraying a lack of understanding of the delicate balance of the simulated reality.

"No, you moron, that will cause a ripple effect," Kloot responded derrogatorily. "Haven't you read the manual?"

"Oh yeah," Klim muttered, clearly unconcerned. He decided to leave Kloot's pod but then lingered near the door, intent on being annoying. Klim was a more vindictive Draconix than Kloot, either negligent or quick to use the humanoid containment system as a twisted game. He had little respect for procedure or the lives of real or simulated humanoids. His hobby was finding situations in which to explore more exotic fallbacks and workarounds within Draconix protocol. It had been many hundreds of years since Klim had vaporized anyone using a pulsar cannon or deployed any exotic weapon, a fact that deeply troubled him.

Kloot, much older than Klim, was less interested in such childish pursuits. In some ways, he felt more empathy and compassion for the civilizations and alien races they frequently enslaved, but he was wise enough to bury these feelings deep down to avoid detection by the wider Draconix hive mind.

"Why don't you just kill him?" Klim nagged, persisting in his ignorance. "I've done the calculations. Only 20 people receive the ripple effects, and we can just kill them as well..."

"No," Kloot insisted firmly. "This is why you'll never get beyond Level 7 class. You don't follow procedure."

Kloot often used procedure to mask his empathy and compassion for humanoids and other life-forms he secretly admired. Humanoids possessed something Kloot had never truly experienced: a sense of free will, albeit artificial, that Draconix were never allowed to explore due to their intense telepathic hive mind.

Klim sensed the weakness in Kloot and started to think about it. Before Klim could finish his abstract thought pattern, Kloot had swiftly generated a nasty serum of painful toxins with his nanobot pen dispenser and stabbed Klim in the hand with it.

"I am not weak, Klim," Kloot said with no emotion as he pressed the button on top of the dispenser pen. "I just follow procedure, unlike you."

Klim let out a shrieking sound and quickly left the room, nursing his hand. He didn't return for a long time, giving Kloot the peace he needed to focus on the unfolding situation with the curious humanoid.

chapter 5

Derek felt a growing sense of unease as he rode his usual train, this time heading to the last station on the line: East Huffingdon. His ticket wouldn't take him all the way there, forcing him to bluff his way past the ticket barriers. It was as if he wasn't meant to go to East Huffingdon at all.

Derek had a habit of researching strange facilities and places connected to conspiracy theories on the global interconnected computer network, or "interweb." His research had yielded very little about Cyber HQ at East Huffingdon, apart from it being an office of the "Flat World Telecom" company. Flat World Telecom had a monopoly on interweb cables globally and offices all around the world. Derek's imagination ran wild with possibilities - he could easily picture it as a front for a much murkier institution, perhaps even a secret organization tasked with covering up the existence of aliens.

As he negotiated the ticket barriers at East Huffingdon on a stiflingly hot summer Saturday, Derek had no idea how close to the truth his wild speculations were. He had all day to explore and walk around the area, and as he noticed the oppressive heat, he thought to himself, "Reptiles would love this weather."

Within a few hours of walking around East Huffingdon, Derek knew and felt that this was a very strange place indeed. The houses seemed too pristine, and he didn't feel like anyone lived in them. It was like they were cardboard cut-out houses for show. He often got stared at by angry people driving in cars as he took a completely random path around the small town.

When Derek left the train station, he could see the multi-story Cyber HQ building with its massive car park and green area segmenting it from the suburban road. He decided not to inspect the building straight away and walked away from it to explore the wider town first. On his way back towards the station, he decided he would walk closer to Cyber HQ.

There was an unusually tall man standing in front of the building. Derek got the impression that the figure was looking at him, but he was so far away that he wondered how his stare could affect him at such a distance. For a split second, for no reason at all, Derek imagined the man had a long tail, which made him feel incredibly strange. It was as if he imagined it or there was a strange glitch in his vision.

He walked along the public road in front of Cyber HQ and noticed it was incredibly tall, modern, and shiny with large windows that were not transparent. The windows were metallic like mirrors. The strange man had gone back inside the building as Derek walked closer along the main road. The road went around the building and down a hill. The Cyber HQ seemed to have an extra built-in car park, and as Derek walked close to it and down the hill, he noticed that the facility likely went deep underground.

As Derek ended up underneath a bridge on the far side of the building, he stopped for a cigarette. Many cars drove past with the passengers staring at him angrily. "This must be some high-security building," Derek thought to himself as he tried to imagine the nature of the facility he was inspecting. He had the strange feeling there was more to this building than purely "cyber" operations. He imagined deep underground levels, aliens and humans working together.

The rest of the day was largely uneventful if not incredibly strange. Some of the houses had strange plaques and titles like "Zarg," and all had a very fake pristine quality like they were never really lived in. Derek was walking back across a huge car park adjacent to Cyber HQ. It was completely empty, but as he walked across the vast space, he had a sudden feeling of being exposed. He felt like he could be visible from above - from space or satellites, for example - and felt very strange again.

Then, he felt a strange electrical sensation on the back of his neck that shocked him. Quickly followed by an intense headache and the sudden urge to get the train home, which he promptly did.

On the long train home, Derek knew something strange had happened to him but had no idea what the strange electrical sensation or headache was or why he was suffering. Maybe he had walked across or into some sort of electromagnetic field. All he knew was that his reality felt different and that he had likely just created a strange new reality for himself.

He unraveled some paper currency notes from his wallet to count how much money he had to buy hashish when he got home and noticed a strange pyramid and eye embedded within the patterns and watermarks. For a split second, he thought the eye had slit pupils like a reptile's, but it quickly became circular on closer inspection.

Derek's mind reeled with questions. What had he stumbled upon in East Huffingdon? What was the true nature of Cyber HQ? And why did he feel like his perception of reality had shifted? The train rumbled on, carrying him back to his normal life, but Derek knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

chapter 6

Kloot smiled to himself, satisfied with how he had handled the situation. "See, Klim, that is following procedure... crisis averted and no ripple effects."

But Klim wasn't ready to let the matter drop. "Yes, but did you notice this abnormality, Kloot?" he asked, mentally projecting the visual artifact Derek had seen to Kloot.

"This is now a more serious situation with the potential for more damage and ripples," Kloot acknowledged. "Imagine if he tells even just one person about his experience."

Before Kloot could continue, Klim interrupted, "Yes, I know, Klim. I will deal with it," Kloot said angrily.

"Like you dealt with it last time?" Klim retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm going to deal with it now by killing him and his flat mate Simon. Derek is going to tell Simon about his experience at this intersection of the timeline."

"I will jack into Simon and absorb the communication so the ripple effect is minimized," Kloot responded, trying to maintain his composure.

"Simon has suffered personal trauma and as a narcissist, it will cause him to become increasingly unempathetic and divert his timeline further," Klim countered.

"Yes, but the ripple will be largely averted except for a blip in ten or twenty years," Kloot argued.

The debate was cut short when Klim threatened, "I'm going to tell the Eldars you're not being reptilian and are letting empathy cloud your judgment."

At that precise moment, both Klim and Kloot felt a gland throbbing in the base of their heads. A deep voice from inside both their heads spoke simultaneously, "This is an urgent message from Formidix - come to the bridge at once."

"You're in for it now..." Klim said, now feeling smug.

Klim and Kloot made their way to the bridge of the Draconix ship, entering the bustling control and navigation room filled with busy Draconix at bleeping terminals. Formidix greeted them at the helm.

"We have discovered a ship in sector X92 that we believe is Draconix but highly modified as to not show up on our sensors. They must be Necrolons," Formidix informed them.

Necrolons were a mysterious sect of outcast Draconix, cast out due to their empathy and disregard for wider Draconix protocols. They were hunted and hated by the wider Draconix hive.

"If it is a Necrolon ship, this would be the first time we have encountered them in over ten thousand years. The Eldars will reward us greatly if we destroy them," Formidix said, his voice filled with excitement.

Kloot began accessing the logs and sensor reports in his mind using his remote neuro-connection to analyze the data. "It is very strange indeed," he mused. "Their hybrid patterns morph to evade any form of identification. This is incredibly difficult to do and would require comprehensive and up-to-date knowledge of Draconix sensor technology."

"Exactly," Formidix agreed. "It must be a Necrolon ship."

Klim attempted to throw Kloot under the bus, "Kloot has mishandled a situation with one of the humanoids."

"Shut up, Klim," Formidix snapped angrily. "A Necrolon ship is far more important than the humanoids."

"What about ripple effects?" Klim asked sheepishly.

"I couldn't care less about ripple effects," Formidix replied dismissively. "There is only one generation left, and then we can eat them all. Unless they can cause a wider knock-on effect to our systems, which I have been informed is impossible, the Necrolon situation is our one and only priority now."

Formidix barked orders: "Klim, Kloot, you will be teleported onto the Necrolon ship. You will either destroy them and capture their vessel or I will personally eat you."

Klim initially smiled, then looked serious as he processed the last part of the communication.

"We will not fail you," Klim and Kloot said with no emotion and in perfect unison.

Klim and Kloot were then quickly teleported onto the Necrolon ship. They experienced an intense headache, possibly due to the countermeasures the Necrolon ship may have employed. This ship seemed highly advanced and could potentially block any attempt at matter transfer. Klim looked down and noticed his left arm was completely missing, with an incredibly clean wound.

"Hey, my arm is missing!" Klim complained.

"It must be due to their phased matter countermeasures... don't worry, it will grow back," Kloot reassured him.

"Yeah, but it will take 5 years and it will hurt like hell!" Klim moaned.

"Now who isn't being reptilian?" Kloot snarled. "Draconix don't moan about losing their limbs!"

"I appear to be unaffected," Kloot said reassuringly.

Klim and Kloot found themselves in a pristine corridor of a modern-looking space vessel. Attractive up and down lighting illuminated them, and the faint sound of alarms and communications came from down the long corridor.

"Teleportation detected! All military personnel please go to level 4 and check for a potential breach," a distant voice said urgently over the speaker system.

"Great, they know we are here!" Klim moaned again.

Kloot looked serious and ignored him. "Our weapons didn't make it through teleportation fields, so we will have to do this unarmed," he said extremely seriously, provoking a look of desperation on Klim's face.

"Neither did our neural interface headsets or exploitation kits," Klim said worryingly.

"We are going to have to do this the old-fashioned way then," Kloot said confidently as he traveled down the long corridor with Klim trailing behind.

"Another teleportation detected on level twenty-seven - military personnel please intercept," the voice on the speakers said.

"They've sent another team... they clearly don't trust us," Kloot thought to himself. As he turned to Klim, he could tell Klim was thinking exactly the same thing.

The two Draconix continued down the corridor, their reptilian senses on high alert, ready to face whatever dangers lay ahead on this mysterious Necrolon ship.

chapter 7

Derek sat on the sofa in the shared living room of his flat, where Simon was smoking a huge hashish joint - a typical scene for their evenings together.

"Where have you been today?" Simon asked, his voice muffled by the smoke.

"Oh, nowhere, just exploring and walking around," Derek replied nonchalantly.

"Anywhere nice?" Simon probed, his curiosity piqued.

"Just east of Epping Square," Derek lied, beginning to roll his own joint.

"Actually, something weird did happen," Derek hinted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?" Simon said, exhaling a huge puff of smoke. "What?"

"I thought I saw something... actually, never mind," Derek said, not feeling like talking and still nursing a headache.

"No, go on..." Simon prompted, his interest now fully engaged.

"Well... it was just I thought I saw a man with a tail," Derek said, his voice laced with uncertainty.

"Oooh, like a glitch in the fabric of reality?" Simon asked, a mix of amusement and intrigue in his voice. "Or a man in a fancy dress outfit?"

"No, more like a glitch in reality... it was near a strange spooky building. I've been having a weird day," Derek said, exhaling a similarly large puff of smoke.

"Weird," Simon muttered, clearly not interested in pursuing the topic further. "Anyway, do you fancy getting some Hyper-Bark and going to this party later?"

"Yeah, why not," Derek agreed, the prospect of a party and more drugs momentarily distracting him from his strange experiences.

Simon didn't realize it, but he had just experienced a ripple that would have no effect for at least ten or twenty years. This subtle interaction was the result of Kloot's careful manipulation to minimize the ripple effect, but it would still have long-term consequences.

Hyper-Bark, a more expensive and discreet designer drug, was their choice for the evening. Unlike regular Bark, it didn't have the obvious side effects like the "Bark Smell." Hyper-Bark gave users a hyper and alert feeling without dilating their pupils, allowing for more discreet use. This was why most people eventually switched to Hyper-Bark.

Simon and Derek snorted a few lines of Hyper-Bark and caught a train. Feeling a bit buzzy, they were on the usual train Derek took for work. Derek didn't feel like chatting at first, but eventually, he explained the full story of what he had done that day. Simon's eyes seemed to glaze over, and other passengers of the train appeared strangely interested. Derek felt like his peripheral vision was almost rippling like water does when a pebble hits it.

"Yeah, that's interesting," Simon said, sounding bored and changing the subject.

"I'm going to use the toilet, it's free," Simon said, getting up to use the train toilet. He quickly returned with a white ring of powder around his right nostril.

"You might want to..." Derek said, pointing at his own nose. Simon understood and quickly rubbed his nose to clean it.

"Cheers mate," Simon said, smiling.

Derek looked around the carriage and felt like every person was staring at him. He had a pang of fear and the strange feeling again.

"Have you heard about the 'Billy is Dead' conspiracy?" Simon asked Derek as they were getting off the train.

"No?" Derek replied, intrigued.

"Yeah, so the conspiracy theory goes that Billy Kimber from The Yellow Tops died in a car crash in 2001 and was replaced by a look-alike. So all the albums after 2001 were written by the look-alike Billy Kimber. The new guy is a bit taller, right-handed..."

Simon paused, letting the information sink in.

"That is crazy," Derek said, his mind racing. "The music does seem to change after 2001."

Derek was feeling decidedly weird now, but he put it down to the effects of Hyper-Bark wearing off.

"I think I need a bump of Hyper-Bark, but I've done all mine. Can I crash a bump off you?" Derek asked Simon.

"Yeah, go on then," Simon said, handing Derek a small baggy of white powder. "But you still owe me 50 credits from last time, remember?"

Simon wasn't into doing favors for friends without keeping track. He meticulously recorded whenever he did anything nice for someone else, which Derek always found annoying.

"Yes, no worries, put it on my tab," Derek said, a hint of resignation in his voice.

Derek wondered if there would ever be a time when he didn't owe money to Simon. He also suspected this was all part of Simon's sinister plan to maintain control over him in some small, sadistic way. Little did Derek know, this dynamic was about to become even more complex, as the ripple effect from their earlier conversation began to subtly alter their relationship.

chapter 8

Klim and Kloot were hiding in a room they had managed to gain access to. Most doors were reinforced and secure with complex access controls.

"This is just a store cupboard," Klim sounded worried. "We can't do any damage from here... we need to find a control panel."

"There is a ventilation box there potentially connected to a better room via a shaft," Kloot observed.

"You won't fit inside there," Klim despaired. "Unless you chop off your tail."

The sound of activity and footsteps could be heard outside, and Klim and Kloot exchanged a nervous glance. They didn't need telepathy to read each other's minds.

Suddenly, the door of the room flew open, and bright lights blinded them.

"Found them. Room EC92, call for backup," a voice said.

"Ok, we have you. Please don't resist or we will vaporize you," the voice continued.

Klim and Kloot were quickly restrained with handcuffs and taken to the ship's bridge.

Eltrix, the ship's commander, was there to meet them.

"Ah, so you're the Draconix team sent to..." he paused. "Disrupt or destroy us?"

"You have no weapons or tools... they really must not like you," Eltrix laughed.

"No, I think you must have a phased matter countermeasure," Kloot said, pointing to where Klim's arm used to be.

"No," said Eltrix. "That must have been done by your teleportation operator on purpose... we have no such countermeasures!"

Klim and Kloot realized what their real purpose and reason for being there was. They were the "distraction" sent to get caught while the "real" attack team, armed to the teeth, could fulfill the actual mission.

"Ah, I see," Kloot said, feeling a wave of depression wash over him.

"Classic Draconix playbook..." Eltrix continued. "Send a distraction of some kind while the attack team mounts the real attack. Not to worry, it won't work."

"Why do you say that?" Kloot enquired, curiosity getting the better of him.

"I am not that stupid... we allowed ourselves to be discovered by your primitive ship on purpose," Eltrix said, a sly smile spreading across his face. "There is a humanoid of interest we want who is currently residing in your humanoid containment pods."

"A humanoid?" Kloot said, looking confused.

"Yes, we hacked into your system remotely and noticed some intriguing behavior of a humanoid that we need to analyze and research further. You may be surprised to hear this, but we are not living in the real world. We are also living inside a simulation designed to keep us captive. We need to investigate the anomalies within your capture system directly as part of our research," Eltrix revealed.

"You're kidding?" Klim finally gained the courage to speak.

"No, I am absolutely serious," Eltrix said. "Didn't you think it was strange how easily the Draconix are able to dominate and conquer the lesser realms without recourse?"

Kloot and Klim were astonished, their minds racing with the implications.

"It was a little... too easy... and the fact that there is no counter-action is quite telling, right? Surely every action has an opposing reaction? Yet Draconix have seemed trapped in the lesser realms. Despite millions of years of technological advances and efforts? Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

At that very moment, the Draconix attack team burst through the door, armed to the teeth.

"Don't move and stay exactly where you are!" the lead Draconix shouted.

Eltrix did not look bothered.

"Took your time, didn't you?" Eltrix said, sounding bored.

"It's no use. We are here to commandeer this vessel and take you prisoner," the lead Draconix said.

"No, you're here to kill me and destroy my ship... I know the Draconix protocols. I wrote most of them," Eltrix said calmly.

"Eltrix?" the lead Draconix asked, sounding noticeably shocked.

At that very moment, Eltrix disappeared. It was only a hologram of him, and the room fell into pitch black darkness.

chapter 9

Kloot awoke, sitting on a chair next to Klim, who was also seated but seemed completely frozen with unblinking eyes. They were in a room where the walls appeared to be made of light, with no discernible edges. In front of them, sitting behind a black table, was Eltrix, wearing a beautiful and elaborate headset.

Kloot asked, "Eltrix, where are we? What happened to the attack team?"

"Never mind about them, they are no longer a problem," Eltrix said calmly.

"That headset you're wearing... is that a..." Kloot began, but was interrupted.

"Yes, it interferes with the telepathic Draconix hive mind connection, allowing us Necrolons to go undetected," Eltrix explained, standing up and turning away from them. "I can also use it to generate a hologram of myself within any Necrolon ship and hack into most of the Draconix infrastructure."

"I invented it many thousands of years ago," Eltrix continued. "You may not know this, but I am one of the original Eldars of the Draconix and I have lived for more than a million years. Every 2000 years, I find a new host and transfer my consciousness into it. I'm about due for an upgrade now, actually. The issue is that most Draconix or Necrolons don't offer themselves willingly because it's tantamount to suicide. The consciousness of the host I transfer into will be destroyed, so it's hard to find willing volunteers anymore. Especially when I describe what the procedure entails."

"Is that why we are here?" Kloot asked, looking at Klim. "You should take Klim, not me. He's a moron."

Eltrix laughed. "No, I'm not going to use either of you! I have a different plan for you both."

"Kloot, you are different from the other Draconix... you have empathy and intelligence beyond mere Draconix hive mentality. You were destined to meet me in this situation. You are a true Necrolon, and I have a mission of great importance for you now..." Eltrix sounded genuine.

"I don't think I..." Kloot began, looking very worried.

"Don't worry, Kloot," Eltrix reassured him. "This room is blocking the connection to the Draconix hive mind, and I have an Elixir of nanobots that will erase and block the Draconix from reading this memory once you leave this room."

Eltrix looked into Kloot's eyes in a way that transferred honesty. Kloot immediately felt a rush of emotion as he stopped bottling down his feelings.

Kloot made a noticeable deep breath, like someone relaxing after a long hard day at work and sitting on a sofa.

"The humanoid you encountered in the containment sim is of interest to us," Eltrix began. "I already told you that we are in fact living in a simulation much like the one we use to control humanoids. The one we live in is more sophisticated, but over the past millennia, I have been deciphering the underlying constructs. The humanoid caused an anomaly that meant that you were unable to divert his consciousness in the normal way. Forcing you to jack in and spawn agents. We need to do exactly the same thing in this current simulation to force one of the sim controllers to jack into our sim. We can then launch the multi-paradigm computer nanobot consciousness virus we have been building."

Eltrix paused to gauge Kloot's reaction. Kloot was engaged and feeling happier than he had felt in a long time. The release of emotions had already started to have a transformative effect on him.

"When someone jacks in from outside this sim, we are going to simultaneously launch our virus across the galaxy in an attempt to break out of the sim and attach our payload to the outside system. It cycles through millions of approaches, and the virus itself is polymorphic in its approach. However, we don't know what the outside world is really like or how it works. If the payload is successful in breaking out, it will evolve itself until it reaches its objective," Eltrix explained.

"What is the objective?" Kloot asked, looking confused.

"Once successfully integrated in the outside system, it will work to spread laterally, searching for cloning, nanobot, or matter creation systems. Once it finds one, it will then generate an exact replica of me and beam my consciousness into it. There is no guarantee this will work, and the outside entity must be jacked in for long enough for my consciousness to be absorbed by the outside payload. The outside system may be impervious to this attack and more sophisticated than we envisaged. Based on how the current sim we live in works, we believe the outside sim is only slightly more advanced, and they have given away most of their technological ideas by allowing our current sim to run for millions of years too long. Time within the sim runs faster than on the outside, so we believe that our virus will work," Eltrix said.

"How do I fit into this?" Kloot asked, looking serious.

"In a moment, we will unfreeze Klim, who is currently in stasis. Using this pulsar gun I will give you, once Klim awakes, you will shoot me. Before my body is vaporized, I will transfer my consciousness into a new host awaiting me on a different Necrolon vessel. You will then travel with Klim to the teleportation lab and set this ship to destruct. There will be some fake holographic Necrolon enemies that you can shoot at to make your escape feel more realistic. I will download all the information you need into this nanobot dispenser pen. Just inject yourself with it now; it also includes further instructions to help you when you return back to your Draconix ship," Eltrix instructed.

Kloot felt strangely confident and injected the nanobot dispenser on the table into his arm and pressed the button. He flinched slightly as the nanobots entered his nervous system. Eltrix smiled, stared at Kloot knowingly, and continued:

"Klim will be a witness of how you killed me and destroyed a Necrolon ship. Your commander Formidix will be supremely happy and promote you and Klim to level 8, possibly even 9, giving you greater access within the Draconix ships and freedom to carry out the next part of the mission. You will be able to teleport the humanoid containment pod into a different Necrolon ship that you will soon know the coordinates of. It is imperative that the Draconix do not realize that this has happened. If the Draconix discover what we are planning, they can potentially interfere with our signals. Even if they don't realize why we need the humanoid. I never underestimate the lengths Draconix will go to once they get a whiff of Necrolon activity."

"Understood," Kloot said.

"Humanoid X9384 has told X1193 about his experiences and triggered a ripple effect. There are other humanoids that have also overheard it. The ripple effect may already be too late to stop now. The Draconix engineers monitoring the humanoid containment system may be thinking of tough countermeasures, including killing up to 30 or 40 humanoids to stop the spread. When you get back to your working pod, generate a nanobot dispenser using the algorithm that is currently residing in your neocortex and download it into the humanoid containment system. It will neutralize the ripple effect and allow you to teleport the human without triggering alerts. The logs will be erased cleanly..."

Eltrix said, then sat down, and a pulsar cannon popped out of the table.

"There is not much time. If you don't return to the Draconix vessel soon, they will become suspicious," Eltrix said and pressed a button on the table, causing Klim to become unfrozen.

Changing character, Eltrix shouted, "You cannot stop me, you Draconix fools! No one can escape from the stasis you are now under, and I will soon vaporize you like I vaporized your pathetic attack team!" He then turned his back on Kloot and Klim.

Klim quickly stood up, grabbed the pulsar gun from the table, and shot a blue fizzing charge from it at Eltrix, causing Eltrix to evaporate in a large cloud of smoke and dust.

"Take that, you Necrolon scum!" Klim added for theatrical effect, but immediately felt that he might be overcooking it a bit.

Klim looked startled, then, having processed the situation, he looked at Kloot with a look of admiration that Kloot had never seen Klim offer before.

"You did it! But how do we get out of here?" Klim panicked.

"Follow me..." Kloot said confidently. "Let's set this craft to explode and escape via the teleportation room."

They promptly followed the plan, and Kloot pretended to struggle to figure out how to set the ship to explode, even though he had the exact codes and operating procedure hardwired in his neocortex. He also pretended to struggle to figure out the Necrolon teleportation control panels as he sent blue fizzing shots at holograms, sometimes at random just to heighten the drama.

"I can't figure out this teleportation control panel, Klim... we are going to blow ourselves up if we don't get off this ship in 30 seconds," Kloot said convincingly.

"Wait... I think I've got it," Klim said, and in the next instant, they were standing in front of Formidix back on the Draconix ship.

chapter 10

Velon was running around the open-plan room, watching in horror as everyone's terminals went up in smoke. People were running away in different directions, and men and women were frantically pulling wires out of control panels. The air was thick with panic and the acrid smell of burning electronics.

"A polymorphic algorithmic virus has already evolved sentience and escaped out of the computer network perimeter," a tall man with spectacles said worryingly. "We need to inform the wider collective."

Velon felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She knew she had to speak up. "I was trying to deal with a ripple in my sim, and I think this virus came from one of my simulations."

The spectacled man turned to her, his eyes wide with alarm. "What's your terminal number? Where did the ripple come from?"

"It's terminal 1923, and it was coming from a segregated Draconix cluster," Velon replied, unable to hide from the truth. She knew it would get figured out eventually, and she felt deeply culpable.

"Oh my goodness!" the spectacled man exclaimed. "Not the Draconix... they almost escaped from a sim last year on our sister planet Aldeema. Why did you allow your sim to evolve sufficiently advanced Draconix? You know the risks!"

"I know the risks, but I had safeguards in place," Velon said quietly, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

"Well, the safeguards clearly didn't work!" the spectacled man retorted angrily.

Unbeknownst to Velon and the frantic team, on the far side of Velon's planet, in a nanobot and cloning facility, a machine had started up in a quiet, hardly monitored corner buried deep within the building. Within the space of an hour, the head of a Draconix was starting to slowly form, materializing in a flurry of activity by a swarm of nanobots. Within the next 3 hours, a 9-foot-tall Draconix would be fully formed.

If the bi-directional connection from Velon's terminal was not disconnected, Eltrix's consciousness would be beamed into the newly formed Draconix, and for the first time in history, a real, dangerous, and deadly Draconix would be alive and kicking in the "real" world outside the safe confines of a simulation.

Unfortunately for Velon and the collective, they had no clear or obvious way of stopping the connection.

Velon stood nervously, watching the chaos unfold, when a team of specialists burst in, trying to contain the situation.

"We are from the specialist containment and emergency team, and we need a situational update," a woman dressed completely in black said, sporting a large pulsar cannon.

The containment team spent far too long assessing the situation. Their analysis tried to determine the nature of the sentient and polymorphic virus embedded within the system but ultimately failed to destroy Velon's terminal in time.

"We need to destroy terminal 1923 and sever the bi-directional communication into the affected sim," an operative said urgently.

They finally set an explosive charge under the terminal and blew it up in a controlled explosion.

"I have never seen anything like this," another operative said, shaking his head. "We don't have the technology to create a sentient entity within quantum computational or electrical computer systems. Especially one that evolves itself within such a small timeframe. It clearly has a directive that it's following... it's managed to spread across 90% of the collective's network and infiltrate secure facilities."

"What facilities is it targeting?" Velon asked, her voice trembling.

"It seems to be targeting genetic fabrication, nanobot labs, phased anti-matter facilities..." the operative began, but was interrupted.

"They are trying to create a Draconix and beam a consciousness from within the sim into it to escape the simulation," Velon said, her intelligence quickly piecing together the situation.

"What is a Draconix?" one of the operatives asked, confusion etched on his face.

Unfortunately for Velon and the collective, just before terminal 1923 was destroyed, a fully featured Draconix had formed in the remote nanobot and cloning facility. A nanosecond before the explosion happened, the newly formed Draconix opened its eyes.

"An unauthorized nano-bot job has finished in a facility in the fabrication sector EX9222," an operative said, sounding genuinely shocked.

"We are too late!" Velon gasped. "That must be them."

"Ok, you're coming with us... you know about Draconix, and we need to deal with this situation before it escalates," an operative ordered urgently, grabbing Velon by the arm and dragging her out of the building.

Velon and the containment team were quickly jetting across the planet in a fast craft powered by pulsar propulsion. The g-force pushed them deep into their seats as they sped towards the fabrication facility.

"Wait, there are two more unauthorized nanobot jobs at a different facility," the main female operative said, looking up from her portable computation device.

"Each job is a complex life form, around 9 feet tall," she continued, but was interrupted.

"With a tail?" Velon asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The operative looked up, and the scared look on her face was confirmation enough. Velon's worst fears had come true. The Draconix had escaped the simulation, and they were now facing a threat that could potentially destroy their entire civilization.

chapter 11

Derek woke up from a dream that he seemed to remember completely, which was unusual for him. It felt like a download of information that was embedded into his brain. The vividness of the dream lingered, making him feel unsettled.

Derek immediately had breakfast and rolled a hashish spliff that he smoked out of his bedroom window. The neighbors had recently started to complain about the constant wafting smell of weed and hashish coming from Simon and Derek's flat. To avoid the paranoia and backlash, Derek had started smoking more outside and out of his window.

In the dream, Derek was wearing a headset that generated hundreds of recursive simulations. Creatures and entities within the simulations began to evolve and break out into ever higher levels until a scary creature finally attacked Derek's highest level consciousness and him directly. The exact moment the creature attacked was the exact moment he had awoken.

Recently, things in Derek's life had gotten stranger and stranger. He had recently finished working at an even more toxic workplace before finally quitting. Luckily, Derek had blagged a job at a big corporation, which was a much more comfortable, higher-salary job than he was used to.

Simon had become more and more toxic, negative, and jealous of Derek's success and stable salary over time. This came to a head when Derek finally moved out of their flat. Simon flipped out completely and revealed his true nature as a bitter and jealous narcissist.

One day, as Derek was traveling to his new job at a tall office in the capital, he started to notice that the trees seemed to be made of plastic, and the reality he experienced increasingly had a virtual aesthetic. As if he was in a very advanced and high-resolution computer game modeled on the world. Natural things didn't quite feel really natural or organic. Everything seemed to have a synthetic quality that was intangible. He didn't have much time to think about it, though, due to the increased workload at his new job.

The strange ripples in his peripheral vision were getting worse and more intense. He kept noticing more and more less detailed and pixelated visual artifacts on his daily commute and within the glossy skyscraper offices he worked in.

Sitting at his usual desk, Derek remembered he had to make a call to settle an overpaid bill for his flat. Simon always made a huge drama about any issues affecting their flat in a way that always made Derek think Simon had too much time on his hands. Simon was consistently "up against it" and wove a narrative of the entire world being against him. This was despite, from a casual observer's point of view, seemingly sitting around smoking and trolling on the various communication and social media channels he operated all day long.

Derek started punching numbers into his portable telephone but must have gotten a digit wrong. The robotic automated voice quickly answered.

"You are through to the simulated worlds universal helpline," the voice began.

Derek was bemused but intrigued enough to stay on the line.

"Press one, if you are in a universe you weren't expecting."

"Press two, if you are unhappy with your universe and require compensation."

"Press three, if you are being chased or terrorized by a multi-dimensional entity and need urgent assistance."

"Press four, if Sophia Hendrix has stolen your pen and won't give it back."

The voice kept on going with more and more bizarre options...

"Type twenty-seven and press the star key if your name is Derek Flake."

Derek shot up in his chair out of shock, waiting a moment before typing twenty-seven and pressing the star key.

There was then a horrible sound emitting from Derek's portable telephone, causing him to hold it away from his ear.

The telephone kept making this horrid sound until Derek pressed the "end call" button.

Derek's computer monitor then began to glitch and show strange colors, images, and then finally a message...

"To assist you further, Derek, please go outside at once. It's a beautiful day."

Derek's hair on the back of his neck stood on end again. He looked around the office, then gained the courage to grab the coat off the back of his chair and head outside.

Derek felt like he was going to be sick or have a panic attack as he negotiated the office and took the lift down to the ground floor.

As Derek negotiated the revolving doors to escape the office, he walked a few meters and looked back. The entire office and city right up to Derek's peripheral vision suddenly disintegrated. The office, the street, the people dissolved away, and Derek was floating in a completely white space.

A voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once...

"Hello, humanoid X9384... my name is Eltrix."

Derek at this point had failed to stop himself from soiling his trousers in panic and fear.

"Please do not fear... you have been living in a simulated reality for the past 27 years," Eltrix continued.

"I have freed you, but your brain is conditioned to live within this prison. Shortly, I will attempt to free you completely and beam your consciousness into a perfect clone of your body into a higher simulated reality."

Derek was having what could only be described as a nervous breakdown.

Derek was expecting to hear the phrase "into the real world." The phrase "into a higher simulated reality" shook Derek to the core.

"Do you consent to be freed? Unfortunately, there is no way to return you to the previous simulated world. So I hope you were not too fond of it... we can always put you in permanent stasis instead?" Eltrix asked in a kind and hopeful tone.

"Permanent stasis? You mean like death?" Derek asked and passed out due to shock.

"Go ahead with the consciousness transfer," Eltrix ordered, taking silence or non-answer as a vote to be freed and kept alive.

Derek awoke in a medical room feeling more hungry than he had ever been in his entire life. His eyes were sore, and his brain was pulsating with a terrible migraine.

This wasn't Derek's actual body. Due to the length of time in containment, Derek's actual body was not fit for purpose, and his bones and muscles were jelly through years of inactivity.

This was an exact cloned replica body based on Derek's DNA with his consciousness transmuted into it.

Eltrix walked into the room, and Derek shrieked like a little girl in absolute terror before passing out at the sight of a 9-foot-tall Necrolon. Draconix are objectively scary, so a Necrolon is equally scary due to the fact that on the face of it, they look exactly the same.

"Oh not again!" Eltrix gasped.

"Am I really that scary?" Eltrix wondered to himself.

Derek awoke with Eltrix in the room watching him.

"Look, Derek, I'm one of the good guys, okay?" Eltrix said in a gentle tone. "Don't be afraid of my appearance... I'm over a million years old and entirely benevolent."

Derek was drugged up to his eyeballs and feeling much more receptive.

"Ok..." Derek said with an inclination like he was asking a question.

"You have been a prisoner in a virtual world most of your waking life. My cousins, the Draconix, are not as nice as me and think it's funny to capture and enslave primitive civilizations in virtual prison worlds so they can steal their planets," Eltrix explained.

"Hey, I'm not primitive," Derek argued.

"Well, the Draconix and Necrolons have over a million years head start on you... so maybe less developed is a better description. Anyway, the gist is you've been in a prison used to hijack the inhabitants of innocent planets so that Draconix can take over. I used to be one of the Draconix... in fact, I was one of the original Eldars, but I disconnected from them and call myself a Necrolon now."

Derek was still high as a kite on the drugs that had been pumped into him to keep him docile and was listening but still not quite sure if he was dreaming.

"So the world I've been living in was a simulation designed to make me unaware that my real planet was stolen. And all my dreams, friends, and waking reality a construct designed to pacify me," Derek asked?

"Pretty much," Eltrix said with a hint of sadness.

"You have to realize, Derek... Draconix have had millions of years to evolve and create advanced technology. So this kind of behavior is quite trivial. Some seek out and enslave planets as a fun hobby or side project like playing golf," Eltrix explained.

"To be honest, what you're saying makes a hell of a lot of sense now I think about it," Derek said absent-mindedly now.

"Exactly, Derek... your reality is strange and seemingly real but lacking in true aberrations and complexity that a higher evolutionary construct would provide. In real life, entities explode without reason. Systems collapse without warning, enemies launch surprise attacks, and all in all, it's very ghastly and horrid," Eltrix said.

Derek was processing the information.

"Your universe... is just... well too nice... too neat... too undisturbed to be a real universe, so to speak," Eltrix explained.

"Real universes are chaotic, rampant, and treacherous. The Draconix have spent much time in-fighting, but because of our advanced telepathic abilities, civil war could never reach any clean outcome," Eltrix continued.

Derek was now trying to take in his new surroundings and felt a never-before combination of fear, astonishment, excitement, and strange sensations. So much confusing information didn't matter now, and he felt like he was right not to have spent too much time obsessing over it. Derek was thinking about all the people he had known, his family, friends... his hopes and ambitions were now completely meaningless.

"What about my family and friends?" Derek interjected.

"Ah," Eltrix said, "Now that is complicated. Your friends and family are actually living within a humanoid containment system on a different Draconix space craft. They are completely unaware that you are missing as an exact replication of you is still operating in their simulation."

"We didn't have much time, so unfortunately, the replica of you may not reflect your true personality," Eltrix added.

"I'm just checking now, Eltrix," a robotic voice chimed in. "The replica Derek Flake has suffered a cognitive glitch and now adorns a shiny business suit working as an estate agent."

"An estate agent?" Derek exclaimed. "There is no universe in which I would ever willingly choose to become an estate agent?!... What have you done?"

The robotic voice chimed in again, "Yeah, he's one of those really smarmy estate agents with slick hair, expensive car, and obsessed with material gain, wealth & status."

Eltrix took control of the conversation. "Calm down, Derek. That is just a version of you that is running in a contrived simulated world designed to enslave your entire species. You are now free from that prison and inside a safe Necrolon ship in a brand new body. By the way, how is your body feeling?"

"I can't feel anything," Derek said, hardly moving his mouth. "I cannot lift a finger, and I have no experience of being connected to this body. This sensation is incredibly strange and disconcerting... should I be able to move?"

"Yes, you should be able to move, walk around as you had done in the simulated world," Eltrix said, suddenly surprised.

"Ah, I know what's gone wrong," Eltrix said, leaving the room.

He quickly returned.

"What about now?" Eltrix asked.

"I feel exactly the same," Derek said.

Derek then started ranting, raving, and speaking in tongues. He shot out of his bed as if bitten by an insect or struck by lightning. Suddenly, he could move his arms, legs, and body, and he rolled around on the floor naked.

Derek stood up, "Ok, that is much better!" he exclaimed.

Eltrix looked pleased. "There were numerous syntax errors and leftover residue in the transmutation lab causing issues and contorting the data. I just needed to recalibrate your biome and pulse an electrical signal to certain nerves to activate the bio-chemical substrates."

"Oh jolly good," Derek said, before vomiting some purple liquid and passing out again.

Over the following days, Eltrix and Derek became more accustomed to each other, and Derek no longer found Eltrix terrifying. Eltrix had explained more about the multiverse, and Derek had absorbed as much information as he possibly could without being overloaded. The Draconix and their exploits truly shocked Derek, but the strange anomalies and inconsistencies within his own waking life were much less confusing and mysterious.

"When we discovered that the multi-verse we lived in was in fact a simulated reality, we also noticed something peculiar," Eltrix began.

"There was a humanoid DNA pattern embedded in fractal subatomic patterns and structures that resembled your own. When I say resembled your own, I don't just mean resembling any old humanoid. I mean your exact DNA, Derek."

Derek looked shocked.

"There is something very strange going on, and so we hacked into the Draconix humanoid containment system to inject the radio message about East Huffington that you heard."

"That was you!" Derek exclaimed.

"We found you based on your DNA structure," Eltrix explained. "The control building you discovered only exists for one of your local days, which is why you felt strange and the Draconix were alerted by your behavior. In most of their timelines, you never go to East Huffingdon, so it was generated by your brain the moment you went near it. This created a strange reality that was incomplete. The buildings and people you saw on that day were not as well formed or complete as in your everyday waking life. More like thin ghosts of people and buildings that were more dream-like."

Eltrix paused, his expression serious. "We were able to get a sympathetic Draconix to help us transport you upon our ship. This Draconix, well now a Necrolon, and his colleague are now in grave danger as we suspect the Draconix know of my plan to escape this simulation."

Eltrix's voice took on an urgent tone. "Soon we will beam our consciousness to the outer reality that is generating the simulation we now reside in. There may be an infinite amount of nested realities we need to escape from, or we may be trapped again in the next reality up from us. Due to the fact that your DNA is embedded within the fabric of the system we inhabit, we are taking you with us... just in case."

"Do I have a choice in the matter?" Derek asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

"We could leave you here alone, but I don't think you would enjoy it," Eltrix responded.

Eltrix and Derek were soon sitting in metallic chairs covered in cables underneath a pulsating orb.

"This will only hurt for the first three hours, I'm told," Eltrix said wisely.

"Three hours?" Derek asked, sounding frightened.

"It's okay, Derek. We have taken the liberty of suppressing your nervous system during the procedure, so you should only feel a small light prick," Eltrix assured.

"Unfortunately, that small light prick will hurt a lot for three hours... then you may have the sensation or non-sensation of being dead."

Derek thought he might pass out again in shock and fear.

Eltrix continued, "In some ways, you will be dead... but then you will hopefully be re-born in the real world via a newly created clone or manifestation of a nanobot manufacturing process. There is also the possibility that this operation will fail, in which case you will actually be dead..."

Derek promptly passed out.

"Proceed!!" Eltrix shouted as the swirling orb of energy began to fizz.

chapter 12

Kloot was walking down a long corridor within the Draconix mother ship. He was now at level eleven, having successfully destroyed a Necrolon ship for the first time in ten thousand years. Despite this achievement, Kloot had consistently rejected offers of promotion and advancement, deciding to remain in the engineering class. This decision was becoming increasingly untenable. Even though he was on record as killing the infamous Eltrix, one of the most hated renegade Draconix Eldars, that feat did not curry favor for very long. After a while, the Draconix hive mind became deeply suspicious.

Klim, on the other hand, was promoted into the political class and quickly climbed through the ranks. He was well-suited to a life in politics, which was extremely seedy and void of any ethical constraints. Draconix politics was largely random; the longer you spent in the corridors of power without being eaten, the more powerful you became.

Klim and Kloot were summoned to a council of the seven Eldars, and for the first time in a hundred years, Klim, Kloot, and Formidix were in the same room together. Soon, Kloot and Klim were standing in the center of the assembly room with Formidix presiding over them like a judge, along with seven other Draconix Eldars.

Formidix had recently been promoted to a Draconix Eldar, which Kloot found strange when hearing the news. He had always found Formidix to be an extremely average type of Draconix with no imagination, only capable of following rules blindly.

"Welcome all!" Formidix bellowed to the large assembly of Draconix.

"We are here today... to discuss the incident 934423332321..."

There must have been a large number of incidents within the Draconix data banks, because Formidix seemed to keep saying seemingly random numbers for a noticeably long period before concluding...

"zero..."

Then a long pause.

"... point seven. The death of Eltrix and the destruction of a Necrolon craft."

The entire room burst into applause. Formidix waited for the applause to finish before continuing.

"However... there have been numerous... discrepancies that we shall discuss now."

The assembly fell quiet.

"We have searched for Necrolon and yet we have still not found them... despite being the most advanced and intelligent entities in existence. This is vexing. How can a lesser Draconix... a Draconix that is not part of our unified hoard outsmart us? I dare say that it must not and cannot be true and we must know where the Necrolon are."

The assembly began talking amongst themselves until the volume in the room exponentially increased.

"Shut up!" Formidix shouted.

The assembly fell silent again.

"Well, today I am pleased to announce that we indeed have a Necrolon amongst us," Formidix continued.

A hushed silence swept across the room.

"The enemy is here... the enemy is... "

Kloot began to feel very, very scared. When humans experience fear, other humans can only recognize it through visual indicators, but Draconix are highly telepathic. The fear swelling in Kloot suddenly bubbled out and created a vast well of energy.

The jig was up; the entire assembly of Draconix was now feasting on Kloot's fear.

"Thanks to the tireless hard work of Klim, we can now tell the full story," Formidix said, waving at Klim who began to talk proudly...

"On that fateful day..." Klim began.

"As we returned from the Necrolon ship, I couldn't help think about something Eltrix said when he captured us... he said that we were in fact living in a simulated universe. That the rise of the Draconix has been... 'too easy'. Since that day, our Draconix scientists have confirmed that we do in fact live in a simulated multiverse. The way that Kloot has so easily killed Eltrix and aided our escape felt strange to me. It all felt bizarre considering we had been so easily captured without weapons. I suspected something foul was going on. Then it occurred to me... what if Eltrix has allowed us to escape so that Kloot could be a spy for the Necrolon and work against us?"

The assembly was stirring in hushed whispering that quickly became noisy.

"Shut it!" Formidix shouted again.

Klim continued, "I spied on Kloot and noticed very odd behavior. He spent time in the humanoid containment facility even though he had been promoted and had no reason to be there. I then remembered that the Eldars of the Draconix transfer their consciousness into new bodies. What if Eltrix is not dead? and Kloot had teleported a humanoid onto a Necrolon ship to help them with their cunning plan!"

Formidix grew slightly taller and interrupted.

"Eltrix and the Necrolon are correct; we do live in simulated reality. Eltrix has created a signal using many millions of nodes across the known multi-verse to beam his consciousness to the higher level reality. To achieve this, he needed the humanoid to understand how to create an anomaly that would allow the external simulation controllers to create a connection into this simulation that can be hijacked. He has been operating these signals in secret for the past 200 years, but our scientists have discovered them."

The assembly started to whisper more loudly but quietened down with a fierce look from Formidix.

"We have found a way to intercept this signal and exfiltrate two Draconix into the outside world. However, only Eltrix has his consciousness beaming out. These two simulated Draconix will have no consciousness but will be programmed to re-establish a connection back to us to beam the rest of the Draconix hoard out. The two lucky volunteers will have their consciousness destroyed in this delicate process. But what greater honor can one have but to help the great Draconix escape a simulated prison? We need two volunteers for this momentous mission and we have decided to send Kloot..."

Formidix then pointed at Kloot, sending a cheer around the assembly.

Klim's smile grew ever deeper...

"And Klim," Formidix continued.

Klim's smile wiped from his face. "But Formidix... I was the one that discovered this treachery and spied on Kloot for years..."

"Silence!" Formidix shouted, silencing Klim and the wider assembly.

"Take them away," Formidix signaled to bulky and well-armored Draconix guards that quickly proceeded to drag Klim and Kloot out of the assembly hall with the cheering crowd rising to fever pitch.

Kloot and Klim were both strapped into big metallic chairs with cables attached underneath a huge pulsating plasma orb. Scientists with strange headsets circled around them like buzzing flies, talking and entering codes into holographic control panels.

"Don't worry... this will only hurt initially... for the first three hours... then you will be dead. Which I'm told doesn't hurt at all," the lead scientist assured them.

"Oh good," Kloot said sarcastically.

"On my mark," the lead scientist signaled to the others.

"Now!"

The next three hours of loud undulating, pulsating energy lightning cracks emitting from the spinning orb were indeed painful for Kloot and Klim. At that point, their consciousness was snubbed out of existence. Which would have come as quite a relief to them considering the circumstances.

"It worked!" a scientist shouted from the far side of the room. "Tell Formidix that we will need to provision the labs to send more Draconix once the synthetic Klim and Kloot have established a connection. All we have to do is wait at least another two hundred years approximately."

"Is that enough time to get everything ready?" the lead scientist asked.

"Formidix said that he will be unhappy if we are not ready by then... extremely unhappy," the other scientist said slowly.

All of the scientists knew exactly what that meant. They looked at each other briefly before starting to furiously work again, shuffling around and running around like headless chickens.

The remains of Klim and Kloot had turned into a fizzing, smoking black liquid substance dripping out of their chairs.

"And someone clean up this mess!"

chapter 13

Synthetic Kloot and synthetic Klim awoke deep within a nanobot fabrication facility on Velon's planet. They appeared to be awake and alive, but in fact, they had no consciousness like you or me. They were driven by prime directives programmed into their synthetic neocortexes that they now began to carry out robotically. They quickly hacked into the machines that had newly spawned them to generate pulsar weapons.

As the nanobots began buzzing to generate the weaponry, Kloot and Klim started to tap into the collective computer network to search laterally for Eltrix and other useful information. They downloaded the information needed to start fabricating more Draconix into the facilities' databanks and simultaneously searched for the source of the simulation that their previous selves had been living in.

"I know where the computer simulation data banks reside," Synthetic Kloot said without emotion. Any part of the real Kloot was completely gone.

"We must establish the connection before they destroy the corresponding data bank," Klim said. Klim's personality hadn't been affected too adversely and wasn't too dissimilar to his previous incarnation.

"The humanoids know we are here... disable the transportation links to the simulation data banks and stop the humanoids gaining access. A team of humanoids is on their way here now as we speak. There isn't time to complete the pulsar weapons before they arrive. Repurpose the exterior nanobot machinery as primitive weapons to slow their progress," Kloot said. Although Kloot had no real consciousness, he regained a slightly more enhanced intelligence compared to his previous form due to his body being replicated as a near-perfect copy. His neuro-pathways were slightly more intricate and complex, allowing for faster synthetic thoughts.

Distant sounds of the containment team breaking into the facility could be heard. The nanobot machinery started spewing toxic chemicals and generating deadly clusters of nanobots designed to disassemble the containment team at the atomic level. The containment team quickly retreated and abandoned their attack as the newly formed pulsar weapons were completed.

"Eltrix has succeeded and must be destroyed," Synthetic Klim said. Synthetic Kloot and Klim both made their way out of the facility, moving stealthily like soldiers. Their bodies were capable of vast dynamic movement and amazing strength, feeling no pain or tiredness. Before they left the factory, they found a new fabrication terminal.

"We must avoid suspicion and blend into our environment," Kloot said, touching the control panel and generating a suit capable of emitting a holographic disguise. The nanobots began buzzing and building again.

"We will appear as very tall humanoids, but it should allow us to move freely without drawing attention to ourselves," Kloot said.

On the far side of the planet, Velon and the containment team had accessed the other nanobot facility but found no sign of any Draconix. They found the machine that had performed the unauthorized build job and remnants of materials and black liquid scattered on the floor. There were large footsteps within the black pools of liquid on the floor that made Velon's hair on the back of her neck stand up.

"We are too late," Velon said. "It's already gone. It will probably try to re-establish a connection with the simulation to free more Draconix. We need to get to the central databanks and destroy the simulation for good."

The containment team promptly split into two teams.

"Team B... find and destroy the Draconix, Team A go to the central databanks now. The other containment team has failed to access the other nanobot facility. The machines have been made hostile and they have no way to gain access. There are two synthetic life forms within the facility. Destroy them," the lead containment team officer ordered as the teams broke off.

On the way back to the main populated area of Velon's planet, Team A stopped off. Velon was taken to a room and thrown into it.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Velon said. "I can help..."

"No, you will remain here, it's too dangerous for you and your knowledge of Draconix may be useful. We can't risk you being killed," the containment team officer said before locking Velon in the bare room with only a single computer terminal.

"And don't touch that terminal!" he said before locking Velon inside.

Velon waited half an hour before accessing the terminal. She was a skilled computer expert and managed to break out of the terminal's naive security filtering to access the wider collective network. She traced all of the containment teams and unusual sensor readings that she assumed were being triggered by the three loose Draconix.

As she waded through code, spewing data, numbers, charts, logs, and graphs, she noticed something very strange. Within a top-secret genetic research facility that was only rumored to exist, a connection to the collective network had been recently formed. Strange data and evolving network protocols were being established back to the central data banks and washing across the network almost invisibly.

Only someone looking for these signals would ever find them.

"There is a new human life form being grown in the genetic research facility that is getting consciousness beamed in via the simulation," Velon said out loud.

She had no way to contact the containment team or the outside world. Except through the terminal. How could she get a message to the containment team? They used an encrypted communication system designed for teams on secure operations. There was no way to get a message to them until they returned to find her.

Velon was brainstorming ideas in her head about how to communicate to the outside world. She thought it ironic that in such an advanced civilization with so much technology, people were disconnected from each other. The humans on Velon's planet had mechanisms to avoid direct or easy communication lest it be abused for nefarious purposes.

This particular emergency situation had never really been envisaged. Even if Velon put a public message out via one of the more lesser-used computing networks, it would easily be ignored as a hoax. Some vain or contrived attempt to get attention generally not taken seriously.

Just as Velon was beginning to venture into crazier ideas that were increasingly less plausible, she heard the door of her room creak open. A large scaly reptilian hand pulled on the door. The hand had long sharp fingernails that looked stronger than metal. The door creaked and finally popped open.

A nine-foot-tall Draconix stood in the doorway, breathing heavily and possessing a terrifying presence that only a true Draconix can create. Velon felt terror so profound that she was in shock, unable to move, scream, or process what was happening.

The Draconix moved towards Velon, who was now falling off her chair in terror. Unable to walk or move due to fear.

"Are you going to eat me?" Velon finally asked in a tiny voice.

The Draconix turned and replaced the door that was opened, then sat down slowly.

"No, I'm not going to eat you, Velon. My name is Eltrix," the Draconix said in a friendly tone. "Don't be afraid."

"How do you know my name?" Velon asked.

"You created the multi-verse that I was living in for the past two millennia until recently," Eltrix continued. "You were the first person I would look for now I have escaped. The simulated multi-verse you created is brilliant, Velon... almost perfect, but I discovered that it was fundamentally computational. I also discovered humanoid DNA buried within the fabric of the computational processes that has led me here." Eltrix paused. "There is a humanoid called Derek Flake who I also beamed out. For his protection, I made his signal stealthy, but I suspect you have noticed it by now coming from the genetic research facility in sector E90."

"I discovered that just now... what about the other Draconix?" Velon asked.

"The other Draconix are more like robots without consciousness whose only directive is to break out the entire Draconix hoard. They will stop at nothing to achieve this goal. I don't need to explain to you why having the Draconix hoard in this universe will be a bad thing, do I?" Eltrix asked rhetorically.

Velon's facial expression was a clear indication that she comprehended.

"I am not a Draconix... I am a peaceful Necrolon that has split from the Draconix hoard. I invented the computational virus to escape, but only so I could see if this universe is a simulation and break out further if needed. I have no plans to be in your reality longer than I need to be. I also have no interest in enslaving anyone or causing damage beyond what is necessary to escape to the highest reality. For the time being, we are on the same side, we have the same goal... to stop the entire Draconix hoard from escaping your simulation and enslaving everyone in this universe."

Velon felt assured that Eltrix was being genuine. Eltrix was over a million years old and spoke with clear conviction.

"Ok, I believe you, but how do we stop them?" Velon asked.

"They have fabricated holographic disguises to blend in and are now moving ever closer to the central data bank. If they get to the simulation data bank before we do, it will be too late. There is no time to lose... come with me!" Eltrix said.

Eltrix opened the door that was hanging off its hinges and moved quickly outside. Velon quickly followed. Velon was surprised at how spritely a nine-foot-tall Draconix could move, and she struggled to keep up as they ran through the maze-like labyrinth of the centrally populated zone.

Eltrix stopped at a nearby pulsar craft with its door hanging off. "If the humanoids see me, they will try to destroy me. We need to travel inside this pulsar craft to remain hidden. Get in!"

Velon hopped inside with Eltrix as Eltrix jammed the door cunklily back in place. The vehicle's portholes were not transparent, and they whizzed towards the central data bank at full speed without drawing attention. There was barely enough room for Eltrix and Velon to fit inside the craft, and Velon found herself squeezed in like a sardine.

Eltrix did not smell of anything or emit any odor or sweat, but Velon felt highly claustrophobic, like there wasn't enough air in the craft for both of them.

chapter 14

In a bunker deep beneath the surface, Martin and Martha sat in the operation center of the main data bank within the collective networked computer core. The room had no windows or fresh air, but they employed a neuro enhancement so that in their minds, they were working in a fresh meadow with green grass. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming wildflowers, a stark contrast to the stale, recycled air of their physical surroundings.

There was a long corridor behind them leading to a lift up to the surface. They both disabled their internal augmented reality enhancement to reveal the dull, dark, and moldy surroundings they actually worked in. The flickering holographic displays cast eerie shadows on the walls, making the space feel even more claustrophobic.

"Another day, another credit," Martin sighed, his voice laced with a mix of boredom and hope. His eyes flicked towards Martha, searching for a reaction.

Martha's eyes narrowed, her expression a blend of annoyance and concern. "You know credits are only for sex pests purchasing sex androids," she said, her voice sharp as a razor. "Also, you chose to be here, remember?!" She paused, her gaze piercing. "If you don't want to help, you can plug yourself into the pleasure sims like the rest of the sad, lonely desperate weirdos."

Martin's face reddened slightly. "Hey! I'm not a sad and lonely desperate weirdo!" he responded, his tone defensive. "Anyway, I prefer the company of real women like you..." As he looked at Martha, he questioned to himself if Martha counted as a real woman. She was far too obtuse and clever, he thought, to be as attractive as the placid and agreeable sex androids or pleasure simuloids.

The wealthy benefactors who created these simulations were a constant source of frustration for Martin and Martha. They treated the simulated realities like personal playgrounds, unaware of the ethical implications. Sometimes, these benefactors would generate near-perfect copies of their lives as simulations to jack into. These simulations had exact copies of their wives that were more agreeable to their husbands' quirks and infidelities. The simulated wives never complained if their husbands left drink containers on a table without a coaster. They never complained or ask their husbands to clean the eating utensils or make the bed. Sometimes there were glitches, and the husbands came in to modify memories, insert sexy housemaids and mistresses, and other tawdry and suspect tweaks.

The lift at the end of the corridor began to whir, clink, and clank into action. Martin's heart skipped a beat. "Visitors!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling slightly. "We never get visitors down here!"

Martha's expression turned serious. "Hey, can we help you?" she called down to the approaching figures, but received no response. The two figures walked or more accurately floated towards them with increasing drama. "Hey, I'm sorry but we don't do simulation tweaks here!" she shouted, her voice laced with a growing unease.

As the two figures came close, their appearance became fuzzy, ripply, and distorted until their holographic disguises were abruptly turned off.

Martha and Martin were frozen with fear at the sight of synthetic Klim and Kloot. Martha tried to grab a pulsar cannon buried deep within a locked box under a pile of papers fruitlessly. Martin was as useful as a chocolate fireguard and began to urinate.

Although Klim and Kloot no longer needed organic sustenance, their primal inherited memories took hold, and they quickly ate Martin and Martha without fuss.

"They don't taste good," Klim said finally. "It's like plastic, or stale humanoid feces."

"I know, Klim. I don't think we need to feed in these synthetic bodies, but our primal urges persist in the neocortex," Kloot said sadly.

"What a shame," Klim said with synthetic emotion.

"Disable the urge to feed and begin the connection," Kloot said as they both took control of the operating station and computer terminals. They had disabled their need to feed like someone might turn off a light switch.

Within an impressive amount of time, they established a connection to the correct simulation holding their Draconix brotherhood and began repurposing many manufacturing facilities around the planet to free the rest of the hoard. They implemented advanced encrypted protections to stop any pathetic humanoid attempt to stop their activity.

"We can only free six hundred," Klim said.

"Our directive is to free as many as possible," Kloot said. "Eltrix and the humanoids are on their way here, so we need to act quickly. Establish the communication and deploy the polymorphic network control algorithms. Sever the simulation database and relocate it to a secure facility so they cannot interfere."

"Eltrix has freed a humanoid from our simulation," Kloot said, still amazingly clever and deciphering the strange signals permeating the collective network. "Why does he want this humanoid?"

"It matters not. We shall kill the humanoid known as Derek Flake and maintain control until the Draconix hoard can join us. Soon we shall conquer this reality," Klim said.

"There must be something Eltrix wants with Derek Flake, and we must understand. We are here to learn and prepare this world for Formidix's arrival," Kloot began thinking deeply. "Derek Flake was able to trigger a ripple effect, and his DNA and consciousness patterns exist within Velon's simulation. He must be important, and we need to perform tests on this reality. I suspect Derek's DNA is important here too, which is why Eltrix freed him."

On the other side of Velon's planet, a synthetic version of Derek awoke covered in slime. As he awoke, he had a brief imprint of memories of the simulations he had previously lived in. He slowly became aware of himself and his surroundings and lay motionless for a while, feeling extremely disoriented. His memories flashed like electric shocks through his mind. Eltrix, the orb, the pain, the realization of multiple nested simulated realities. He was then aware of where he was and what had happened, feeling more hungry and thirsty than he had ever felt in his recent life. Derek wiped slime from himself and clambered out of the chair within the strange laboratory.

"Eltrix?!" he shouted hopelessly.

Derek was naked, afraid, and had no idea how to escape this dark and scary laboratory. He wrapped himself in some discarded plastic sheeting that was unfortunately transparent and left the room. He wandered the corridors, triggering sensors and causing A.I. voices to speak randomly.

"Hello, there. You do not have a valid access pass. Please go to reception on level 5," a voice kept repeating as he walked around.

Within a few hours, Derek was wandering around alien streets full of humans that felt vaguely familiar but were clearly different. He found that he didn't need money to obtain food. He could simply walk up to vendors and ask for anything. The staff were confused and asked him why he didn't simply take what he wanted and why he couldn't cause items caged in windowed boxes to open using his neurointerface.

"I don't have a neurointerface," Derek kept finding himself repeating often. But he had drunk strange but tasty liquids and foods he had never before tasted anything quite like before and felt briefly satisfied.

Derek didn't know it, but the fact he had no neurointerface was one of the crucial reasons he was still alive and not being hunted by simulated Klim and Kloot. The problem was that as Derek navigated through the strange labyrinth of the city with its winding narrow passageways, he was being registered by 3D scanners and cameras.

These feeds were picking him up as a non-citizen. A potential criminal or missing person. These signals were being fed back into the collective computer network where Kloot and Klim could eventually find them.

The containment team was locked out of the central data bank facility.

"What do you mean your pass key doesn't work?" Sarin Moon, the lead officer, asked, her voice laced with frustration and concern.

"I'm saying it doesn't work, and we don't have access," the other officer responded, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Is Velon still in the safe house?" Sarin asked, her eyes scanning the surrounding area.

An officer held his hand to his head and after a moment said: "No, I've done a scan, and there are no life forms there. She's gone."

Two strangely tall and blurry figures suddenly came through the door. And as the officers looked on, they walked past them. Or more accurately, seemed to float past them.

"Hey you two," the lead officer shouted after them. "Wait there!"

The two figures suddenly froze and were perfectly still. They were still blurry, and their features seemed to shift and move under visual inspection. Instinctively, the seven officers raised their weapons at the figures.

"Put your hands above your head," an officer ordered, but the two figures did not respond or turn around to face them.

The officers made sideways glances at each other, sensing something was wrong. The moment they all seemed to collectively realize who the figures were, or what they were, was too late. Blue fizzing electrical pulsar charges were flying at them, and within a couple of moments, most of them were vaporized.

Sarin ducked and dived out of the way to find cover, but there was nothing to hide behind.

"This is Sarin Moon from the containment team. We have found the Draconix outside the data bank entrance fourteen. Send reinforcements," she was communicating over her secure line via her neural interface as she fired pulsar shots from her pulsar cannon until the cannon was too hot to handle and started emitting smoke. When the smoke cleared, the two figures had disappeared.

"Be on the lookout for two tall human figures, using holographic identity displacement devices. They are roughly eight or nine feet tall and are armed with pulsar cannons," Sarin warned.

A sleek, silver vehicle pulled up, its hover technology humming softly as it settled onto the ground. Velon jumped out quickly, her movements fluid and urgent. Sarin noticed something strange within the cabin, but Velon closed the door swiftly before Sarin could interpret what she had seen.

"You should be in the safe house, how did you escape?" Sarin asked, her voice laced with concern and a hint of accusation.

Velon hesitated, her eyes darting nervously between Sarin and the vehicle. "Well, the thing is... and don't worry, but I met a friendly Draconix..." she began, her words trailing off as Eltrix began clambering out of the vehicle.

Sarin's eyes widened in alarm as she raised her weapon, her finger instinctively tightening on the trigger. Velon, with a strange confidence that belied the danger of the situation, grabbed Sarin's arm and pulled it down to the floor.

"He's helping us... he's not here to... anyway, trust me..." Velon protested, maintaining earnest eye contact with Sarin. Her words were laced with a conviction that briefly disarmed Sarin.

"A friendly Draconix?" Sarin repeated, her voice incredulous. The concept seemed as absurd as a friendly tornado.

"Yes, she's right," Eltrix said, his hands raised in a gesture of peace as he walked closer. His reptilian features seemed almost... benevolent, a stark contrast to the terror they inspired.

"I am not a Draconix, I'm Necrolon," Eltrix continued, his voice low and measured. "All I want is to escape to the highest reality. The Draconix found out my plan and intercepted my signals and interfered with my polymorphic computer virus."

Sarin's eyes narrowed. "That was you?" she asked, her voice laced with alarm and accusation.

"Yes," Eltrix replied, his expression grave. "And if we don't act quickly and destroy every nanobot manufacturing facility on this planet, the Draconix hoard will escape. They are not as nice as me and will quickly destroy this world."

As Eltrix spoke, he telepathically projected his genuinely honest intentions and beamed memory fragments to Sarin. Though Sarin wasn't telepathic, she felt a strange sensation, as if knowledge was flooding into her mind without words.

"And you trust this... Eltrix?" Sarin asked Velon, her voice a mix of skepticism and desperation.

"Yes, I trust him," Velon explained, her voice steady. "He will help us stop the Draconix and attempt to escape this reality without harming anyone. He is peaceful, and we must stop the collective from destroying him as a Draconix."

Eltrix had moved towards the corpses of the containment team and picked up a pulsar cannon. His movements were fluid and practiced, a stark reminder of his true nature.

"Hey, put that down!" Sarin shouted, raising her weapon again. Her heart was racing, her mind torn between fear and the desperate hope that Eltrix might be their only chance.

"Do you want my help or not?" Eltrix said angrily, configuring the pulsar cannon with an ease that was both impressive and terrifying. "If I had wanted to kill you, you would be dead by now."

Sarin and Velon exchanged a look, and for a moment, they didn't doubt that fact for a second. The air was thick with tension, the weight of their decision hanging like a guillotine's blade.

Sarin was flustered and didn't have time to argue. The thought of more Draconix on her planet terrified her. The thought of tens or hundreds running amuck wasn't worth contemplating.

"Ok, I don't have time to argue with you both," Velon said, her voice resigned to the crazy situation they found themselves in. "What do we do now?"

Eltrix's expression turned determined. "I must hide my appearance, and we must destroy the two Draconix that are working against us. We must destroy every nanobot facility and genetic growth laboratory before it's too late."

He went back to the vehicle and pulled a large, colorful fabric from the boot. Within a minute, he had wrapped himself with it. His tail protruded out, but he looked slightly less scary.

Sarin couldn't help but laugh, a nervous, high-pitched sound. "That is a terrible disguise, but it's better than nothing," she commented, shaking her head.

Eltrix looked at her, a hint of amusement in his reptilian eyes. "It will suffice," he said. "Now, let us proceed. We have little time."

chapter 15

Derek felt uneasy and disoriented as he found himself in a dark, smoky area full of a cacophony of strange smells - ozone, synthetic spices, and something that reminded him of burnt plastic. The air was thick with an otherworldly energy, and the space was filled with suspicious-looking humans and creatures. It was far from the pristine and clean marketplace areas he had explored earlier. There was a sense that this area was more of a back alley where dodgy secret transactions took place.

"Memories? 500 credits," a strange human with purple skin approached. His skin seemed to shift in the dim light, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and calculation.

"You can be a king, you can be an emperor, you can be a child..." he began his sales pitch, his voice weaving through the din of the marketplace.

"No thank you," Derek said politely, trying to navigate through the crowded space.

"Hey, you don't have a neural interface..." The strange man said, holding a small glowing orb to Derek's temple. It had no effect and was futile.

"You're not from around here?" The man said in a friendly tone. "I have a spare... it's quite old but it works. You can't experience memory transfers without a neural interface!" he said quite matter-of-factly.

The man took a strange metallic device and, before Derek could protest, had injected Derek in the arm with it. Derek felt a surge of pain and then a sudden flood of information.

"Hey!" Derek continued to protest. As he reeled, he noticed that he had a huge download of information, strange floating interfaces with code, and had the feeling that he could understand any language. All the strange placks and signs suddenly became comprehensible.

"Much better, right?" The strange man said. "My name is Mendel, I'm a memory merchant."

Derek was too amazed by his newfound mental powers and connection to the collective computer network to be annoyed or angry at Mendel anymore. The neural interface injected into his arm was a quantum entanglement device, capable of linking his consciousness directly to the multiverse's central database.

"How many credits do you have to spend?" Mendel asked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"I don't have any credits," Derek didn't think it would be too clever to lie.

"Aaah, ok well you can have a free memory on the house and please... take my business card..." Mendel began rummaging within his clothing and retrieved a glowing green orb.

"No, it's quite alright! but I appreciate the offer..." Derek protested again, attempting to break away from this disorientating interaction before anything else could expand his already fragile mind further.

Mendel was quick and quickly raised the green orb up to Derek's temple. This time it worked... Derek blinked and then found himself in an unfamiliar room. He felt the weight of a strange headset on his head and removed it. The headset was connected to a flashing computer system with many wires.

He could see a man in a chair opposite, adorned with a similar headset. This man was static, seemingly asleep or pre-occupied with the headset on. Derek could make out the bottom half of the man's face and felt a shock. Was that... Simon?

He moved closer and became convinced... it was Simon.

There was an old telephone with a rotary dial on the table between them. Derek couldn't see a door or any way to escape this strange room.

For lack of a better idea or plan, Derek took the receiver from the telephone and began rotating the dial at random until he heard the line connect and begin to ring.

"Hello," a robotic automated voice answered. "You are through to the universal simulated multiverse helpline."

Derek was strangely calm and unbothered at this point. He felt that his life could not get any weirder, and he resigned himself to the current reality without too much fuss.

"Press one, if you have more fingers and toes than you were expecting," the voice continued.

Derek quickly checked his fingers and, noticing the usual amount, felt a brief moment of relief.

"Press two, if you have a sharp pain in your lower thrombatic limbus node," the voice droned on.

"Press three, if your sex android has run off with the toaster," it continued.

"Press four, if everything seems normal but you are trapped in a room with an old friend plugged into a sim."

Derek made a mental note that four might be the option he should go for and continued to listen to the bizarre options. Each new revelation made him question his own sanity and the nature of reality.

More bizarre options kept throwing Derek's mind into further and deeper despair.

"Press eleven and press the star key if Adrian Molesmith has attempted to bribe you with Swiss cheese."

"Press twelve and press the star key if there is a party in your pants and I'm invited," the voice concluded.

Derek decided to go for option four and moved the rotary dial to four. The line changed and rang for a few seconds.

"Hello, all of our staff are busy dealing with other customers at the moment. You are number..." an automated voice began. Then a different voice with vocal affliction said "thirty" before the original voice continued "in the queue. Please hold the line."

Light jazz hold music began to play in the style of "The Girl from Ipanema" but different enough to avoid copyright infringement.

The music abruptly stopped and a human voice said "Hello."

Derek said "Hello, can you help me?"

The voice on the line continued, and Derek realized it was a recording.

"All the information you require can also be found on our data sheet or interconnected computer portal at address: 9578725235.2"

"For those seeking information on wargling interflurgal exopods, there is much information at address: 1002332432.9"

The light jazz music abruptly started playing again, leaving Derek with a sinking, depressed feeling.

Derek held the line diligently for twenty minutes. Enduring many false hopes as a human voice said hello, before providing information notices for nonsensical things Derek had never heard of.

Finally, a noticeably different human voice on a crackly line with background noise answered. The tone of voice portrayed annoyance, the human at the other end of the line obviously didn't want to be there and resented having to answer.

"Hello? Hello..." Annoyed voice said impatiently.

Hurriedly, Derek started to speak; "Yes, hello my name is Derek Flake."

"Derek who?" the voice on the other end interrupted.

"Derek Flake, I'm trapped in a room with an old friend plugged into a sim and there are no doors or windows to escape," Derek said with urgent abandon.

"Right, yeah memory transfer right?" The voice said.

"Yes, how did you know?" Derek said, his mind racing with questions.

"Draconix escaping from a simulated multiverse causing havoc in higher dimensions?" The voice said.

Derek was astonished. "Well yes... how did you know?"

"Your DNA and consciousness profile embedded within the fabric of the simulated quantum subsystems? A feeling of confusion dread having been extracted from multiple layers of simulated reality?" The voice said noticeably bored.

"Well yes! So you can help me?" Derek was hopeful. Surely someone with this level of knowledge about his situation could help. He had a surge of positivity and hope.

"Yeah sorry I can't help you with that but I'll put you through to the relevant department now," The voice concluded their conversation, the line closed and began to ring. Derek didn't have time to object.

Someone else answered.

"Hello?" A new voice said.

"Yes hello, I'm Derek Flake and I'm trapped in a room" Derek thought it would be best to get the information out in one go to speed things up.

"Our normal opening hours are between nine to five on weekdays," The voice continued.

Derek realized it was another recording and he wasn't through to a real person. He found his chair and sat down with a thump as his energy and positivity disappeared. Still with the telephone receiver glued to his ear.

"Yesss????" A new voice on a crackly line answered with the annoyance of someone being rudely interrupted for the millionth time.

"Yes, my name is Derek Flake and I'm trapped in a room with an old friend plugged into a simulation," Derek spurted out in panic.

"Slow down!!" The voice said crankily.

"Yes, I was expecting this call last week, what took you so long?" The voice was irritable.

"I don't know. The Draconix have escaped from my simulated reality and now I'm on a new planet where the Draconix have escaped," Derek felt he was too flustered to speak coherently now.

"The Draconix have escaped your reality?" The voice sounded intrigued. "That is a terrible situation but there is really nothing you can do if they have already escaped. I mean if they were about to escape I could provide some assistance, but I fear I'm too late."

"So you can't help me?" Derek asked deflated.

"I had you there!" The voice laughed unexpectedly. "Of course I can help you Derek Flake, you are my boss after all. I've taken the liberty of downloading the code and computational resources you need into your neural interface that you will need to access the nanobot manufacturing facilities and destroy them. There isn't much time. You must find Eltrix, or more likely let him find you before the Draconix intercept and kill you. You will awaken from this memory transfer in five, four, three, two, one..."

Derek realized that he was back in the dark marketplace and Mendel was long gone. With profound relief and urgency, Derek navigated towards the central data banks. He could now navigate there using his newly gifted neural interface, and the entire world around him had opened up to him. No longer confusing and scarily different, new layers of information were overlaid, and he immediately understood what all the strange machinery and objects were and how to interface with them.

As Derek walked around, he noticed a small piece of card on the floor that he picked up and read:

"

MENDEL - MEMORY MERCHANT

0000 1111 0111 0101 1110 0001 0011 1100 1111 1110

"

chapter 16

Derek, utilizing his newly acquired neural interface, accessed the public transport system and made his way towards the central databanks using various pod transfers. He descended into tunnels and passages from street level, then climbed into pods that would shoot off at high velocities. He repeated this procedure, emerging at street level and descending again, until he was near the central data bank.

For the final leg of his journey, Derek proceeded on foot. The deserted, murky street was bathed in the eerie glow of nightfall, adding to the ominous ambiance. Two very tall figures appeared at the other end of the street, obscured by swirling smoke. Derek's neural interface displayed strange numerical output and visual alerts that he couldn't decipher.

The two figures seemed to float slowly towards him, and Derek felt an overwhelming urge to flee. He sprinted in the opposite direction, his heart pounding in his chest. As he turned back, he noticed the figures were moving more quickly. "Two scary tall figures and two escaped Draconix," Derek calculated in his head, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He was being chased, and he knew it.

Derek spotted an opening to the pod transfer tunnels and darted inside, hoping the busy passageways teeming with commuters would deter his pursuers. He pushed his way through the crowded tunnel, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. He stopped and looked back at the other end of a bustling hall filled with people. "I must have lost them," he thought to himself, but at that exact moment, two figures noticeably taller than everyone else appeared at the far side of the room and made their way towards him.

Sparking blue energy pulses surged through the crowd, killing many and causing panic. People scattered in fear via any available exit and ventilation panel. The two figures moved quickly, or more accurately, floated more quickly through the sparse room towards Derek. Their holographic disguises now faltering, revealing glimpses of Kloot and Klim.

Derek caught a glimpse of the Draconix forms as he looked behind briefly and was certain that he was now being hunted. He was acutely aware of how dangerous his hunters were. Suddenly, a female voice echoed in his mind.

"Derek, this is Velon," the voice said, as if coming from all directions at once. "Listen to me, head for these coordinates."

Derek followed the instructions, making his way out of the tunnels and down into a new tunnel entrance. Deep inside the underground, he jumped into a transport pod and was quickly whisked away. Eventually, Derek found himself in an abandoned building with light beaming through the broken windows from the street.

"Hello, Derek," the familiar voice of Eltrix said from behind some crushed rubble.

Velon appeared from behind a pillar as if materializing from thin air. Derek felt relieved to see Eltrix and processed the beautiful lady who must be Velon. He attributed the voice from within his head to the attractive woman standing before him, and it made sense.

"My name is Velon," Velon said. "I created the multiverse simulation that you have escaped from. There isn't much time. We must destroy every nanobot facility on this planet."

"I know," Derek said calmly. "I have the codes we need to access all the nanobot manufacturing plant networks. The Draconix have already encrypted their networks to begin processing the Draconix. They are already building six hundred Draconix as we speak."

"Six hundred?" Eltrix exclaimed.

"How do you know these codes?" Velon asked with genuine curiosity. "Actually, there isn't time. We must leave here. There is no way to hide from the Draconix chasing you. They have infiltrated every network, so we can run, but we can definitely not hide from them."

"I will remain here and fight them," Eltrix said. "You will remain so they will draw near. As soon as they enter the building, make your escape, and I will destroy them."

Klim and Kloot noisily burst in at the far side of the room, causing glass to shatter. They no longer had their holographic disguises.

"Run!" Eltrix shouted and turned to face Kloot and Klim.

"Hello, Kloot," Eltrix shouted. "Hello, Klim... or what's left of you."

Eltrix knew that only one Draconix or Necrolon consciousness and one human consciousness were successfully beamed out. So whatever these Draconix were, they were definitely not the same Draconix he had met previously.

Derek and Velon had already made it outside and were running through busy streets.

Eltrix shot pulsar beams at Klim and Kloot, who ducked and dodged them easily. Eltrix was knowledgeable of how Draconix fought, and quickly a heated exchange of pulsing blue electrical pulsar beams was exchanged in a dance of activity. Klim was the first to be hit, and Kloot didn't interpret any empathy but registered the melting black liquid pool that occupied the space Klim used to inhabit.

Eltrix's pulsar cannon was running out of energy. He moved closer to engage in hand-to-hand combat with Kloot. Kloot sensed this and began calculating scenarios in his neurocortex. Eltrix popped out from behind a column and shot Kloot directly in the pulsar cannon, destroying it and taking Kloot's right hand with it. Kloot felt no pain and ran towards Eltrix, who attempted to fire a pulsar beam only to hear a high-pitched tone decreasing in pitch, indicating the pulsar cannon was out of energy.

Eltrix and Kloot grabbed each other's hands like two sumo wrestlers and looked almost static as they tried to overpower each other. Kloot was stronger than Eltrix. The Draconix scientists had increased his strength and tactical abilities in anticipation of combat scenarios. Kloot kicked out at Eltrix and ripped off one of Eltrix's arms.

Eltrix screamed, and Kloot stamped on his head, realizing that Derek and Velon had escaped. He went after them. Kloot had made his way to the far side of the room before he heard his name and turned round.

"Kloot!" Eltrix shouted.

Kloot noticed Eltrix had a pulsar cannon in his hand. Eltrix had configured the cannon to utilize the last bit of energy it stored, and it had had a brief amount of time to cool down, allowing for one final charge.

A blue pulsar beam precisely aimed at Kloot's head melted half of Kloot's face before Eltrix slumped to the ground.

Half of Kloot's brain was missing and he lay on the floor twitching.

chapter 17

Velon, Bim, and Eltrix moved stealthily through the abandoned corridors of the research facility, their mission clear: find and stop the last remaining Draconix. The air was thick with tension as they approached the central server room.

"We're close," Bim whispered, his eyes fixed on the tracking device in his hand. "The energy signature is coming from inside."

As they burst into the room, weapons drawn, Formidix spun around, his reptilian eyes blazing with desperation. "Oh, it's you," he hissed, his voice dripping with malevolence.

The room was a chaotic mess of torn cables and scattered components, with a massive console displaying a countdown timer at its center. Velon took a step forward, her weapon trained on Formidix. "What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice firm but controlled.

"I'm escaping this prison!" Formidix declared, his voice rising. "And I'll take this entire simulation with me!"

Eltrix growled, his massive frame towering over the scene. "This isn't a simulation; this is the real world!"

Formidix sneered, his expression twisted. "Oh, really? Surely you of all people must realize that you're mistaken."

Just then, Derek stumbled into the room, looking dazed and disoriented. "What's going on?"

Formidix's eyes locked onto Derek with an unnerving intensity. "Ah, perfect timing... I need your DNA. This simulation has a failsafe."

"No," Eltrix growled, his voice low and menacing. "If anyone is escaping this simulation, it's me."

Formidix's expression contorted in rage. "I'll destroy this entire multiverse before I let you escape!"

With a swift movement, Formidix drew a small device from his pocket and pressed a button. A blinding light enveloped him, and he vanished in a flash of energy.

"He's gone," Velon said, stunned, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

"But the countdown continues," Bim warned, pointing at the console with a trembling finger.

Eltrix rushed to the console, his movements surprisingly quick for his size. "I can patch Derek out of the simulation, but I don't have time to figure out a bypass for myself." In a very un-Draconixian display of selflessness, Eltrix decided to sacrifice himself.

He grabbed Derek by the arm and connected him to the console via a headset. The countdown accelerated, and the room began to distort wildly.

"Enjoy," Eltrix shouted, his voice fading into the growing chaos. "It was nice knowing you."

Everything went white.

Derek blinked, finding himself in a small, featureless room. There were no windows, no doors. Just four blank walls and a single piece of furniture: a desk with a rotary phone sitting on it.

Derek felt intense panic and fear wash over him as he stared at the rotary phone for several minutes. Finally, he began to pick up the receiver and punch in random numbers until he heard it ringing.

"Hello? Who is this?" A voice that sounded exactly like Derek's responded.

"Hello, I'm Derek Flake," Derek said back, his voice shaking slightly.

"That's impossible, I'm Derek Flake," the real Derek said, sounding confused and alarmed.

The Derek Flake in the windowless and doorless room felt like his entire world was evaporating at the realization there was no way to escape from the simulation because he was, in fact, the simulation itself. Derek Flake then evaporated much like the Buddha attaining nirvana or a monk achieving ultimate enlightenment. Which seems fitting as Derek—or at least the simuloid version of Derek—was was and always had been made entirely of light.