Prophecy Approved Companion - Book 3 Chapter 95

Time passed. How long it was, Qube couldn’t say. It was both a lifetime, and no time at all, in the strange way of dreams.

She awoke in a dark room, lit only by a dim blue light. She immediately corrected herself: there were no walls, so she shouldn’t really call it a room. Rather it was more like what she imagined the inside of a pocket dimension looked like. Vivid memories of being inside the Chosen One’s backpack rose up, only to be dismissed. She could breathe, and her heart didn’t feel like it was being squashed. A few seconds later her friends appeared around her.

Everyone in the party, that is, except for the Chosen One, who remained conspicuously absent.

A Save Point whirled in a corner, the only light in the dim environment. She could just barely make out her friends’ faces. They all looked as disorientated as she felt.

“Is everyone all right?” Qube started to check in, only to be interrupted by Warwick’s body appearing next to the Save Point. As soon as he materialised, several invisible torches activated, spilling oddly muted light into the oppressive darkness.

But all the additional light did was emphasise the nothingness around them.

“Sorry about this,” clearly-not-Warwick said. His voice, both familiar and foreign, was swallowed up by the environment. “We didn’t really have time for anything better. But I figured you lot would appreciate a briefing beforehand, while everything is loading in.”

He shrugged one shoulder, irritation obvious in the gesture. “That and someone kept having hissy fits about not being able to talk to you.”

Qube knew exactly who that someone was. The question was — why wasn’t he there with them? They were about to ascend, or be reviewed, weren’t they? He’d promised he’d be there for that, hadn’t he? Or at least support them.

“Forgive us, but so many have appeared in this form — to whom do we have the pleasure of addressing?” Sencha Bard, ever the diplomat, stepped forward and gave a shallow bow to the Dev.

“Alex,” the Dev replied, unaffected by the question, and seemingly unappreciative of the Bard’s etiquette. “I’m the project manager. We’ve met.”

“I see. So, now we have completed our quest, one would assume that this is the point in which we are rewarded for our efforts?” Sencha Bard continued smoothly.

“That’s not exactly up to me,” Alex said. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. You’re gonna be facing some important people. They’re going to decide your fate.”

“The review,” Definitely Bad Guy nodded. “The Chosen One informed us that we would be required to prove our personhood.”

“Yeah, no, it’d be good if you did that too,” Alex replied confusingly. “But that’s not the important part. You gotta convince them that you’re useful more than anything else.”

The world around them shifted slightly. Alex glanced up at nothing, his fingers twitching.

“We shall prove that we are useful people,” Sencha Bard assumed control of the conversation again.

“But who are these important entities we must sway?” Sexy Screamy Spider Briar asked, taking control from Sencha Bard. “Surely knowledge of those we must convince will help us achieve our goals.”

“They’re going to call you by your titles, rather than names; make sure you respond to them,” Alex continued, as if they hadn’t spoken. “They’ve read reports about you all so don’t lie about any events, or anything you’ve said out loud, just in case they remember anything. I tried to shape the reports in favour of you all, but I could only do so much. They have to trust you or else…”

He trailed off, his expression troubled.

“I believe you’re people,” he said abruptly, looking away from the nothingness and making eye contact with the various group members. “I really do. And I think what we’ve done here will change the world. But I don’t have the power to protect you. None of us do. Which means you’ve got to play ball, or they’ll strangle us in red tape. At best. Assuming they don’t table the whole project for a decade or so for some unknown reason.”

He was talking gibberish.

The Chosen One had promised to protect them. He’d sworn they would remain together, and not have to face others in their world alone. And it sounded like he’d managed it. He’d talked about having a plan, that he was trying to pull someone off. He’d looked Qube in the eyes and told her that he would —

But then, the Chosen One had lied before. He had tried and failed to pull things off, or break things. She no longer saw him as the infallible Hero, destined to always do what was right. Her faith in him was no longer absolute. But she still had faith, earned through friendship, rather than forced through narrative.

“Will we be facing them one-on-one?” Qube asked, feeling herself tremble at the thought. He’d promised. He’d promised.

“No,” Alex said, and Qube felt her hope grow. “You’ll be facing the board as a group, as promised, and you’ll have your Chosen One as a representative.”

Despite the fact they were about to go into what was possibly the toughest fight in their life, Qube felt herself relax.

He would be there.

Just as he’d promised.

“Just remember,” Alex said, as he turned back towards the Save Point. “Make yourselves seem useful, and we’ll get through this.”

Then, very quietly, he added: “Hopefully.”

His hand touched the Save Point, and the world warped around them.

—

They were back inside the throne room. However, the throne was missing. Instead, there were several dull grey tables, surrounded by chairs. On them were a dozen mugs, and some strange pieces of slate. Qube instantly recognised the furniture as being the same as the ones from the room where she’d met Sir Ian and Dan the Dev, in the shape of Ruth.

She looked around, and flinched when she saw two Ruths wearing different clothes standing on the other side of the table. Three Warwicks were also there, each of them wearing a different coloured outfit. It looked like the equivalent of the Chosen One’s fire and water resistant ensembles, with a third, colourless addition on the final Warwick.

The original not-Warwick stepped forward.

“You should all now be loaded in,” he informed the five Potentials. From his voice, it was clear he was Alex.

One of the Ruths, in a red Rogue outfit, stepped forward and sat down at the head of the table.

“Major General Coyle, confirming my presence,” she said in a sharp, clipped voice.

One of the Warwicks, also in red, sat down next to her. “Major General Thompson, confirming my presence in the demonstration,” he said. He looked at the original Warwick and gave him a small nod.

“Brigadier Kennedy, confirming,” the blue Warwick said, sitting down next to his colour-swapped twin and immediately picking up a slate.

“Professor Dinto, confirming,” the second Ruth said, taking the fourth seat.

“Mister Bazzacco, confirming,” the last, colourless, Warwick said, and sat.

The five Potentials stared at the party that had just saved the world. The red Ruth spoke first. It was clear from her demeanour that she was very, very used to being in charge.

“This part of the demonstration will be primarily concerned with the display, interview, and analysis of the five subjects in question,” she said. “I remind everyone present to be aware of the sensitive nature of this particular aspect of the demonstration, and refrain from question or comment until the appropriate section.”

She shot a quick, but meaningful, glance at the red Warwick. He returned her look with bland indifference.

“Once this demonstration is complete, we shall take a short break—”

Was Qube allowed to greet the Chosen One? Even though they’d only been separated a short while, it felt like it had been forever since she’d seen him. He looked tired, which had become normal, and subdued, which was abnormal.

He noticed her watching him and flashed her a lopsided smile. He gestured subtly to the remaining seats.

Were they supposed to sit? Bow? Salute? Curtsey? What was the etiquette here?!

“Please identify the subjects,” Major General Coyle ordered Alex.

“This is their liaison, known as the Chosen One,” Alex said, sweeping a hand towards the Hero.

The Chosen One stepped forward and took a seat at the table. Major General Thompson, the red Warwick, seemed to relax part of his face while looking at the Chosen One. It wasn’t a smile, or anything so overt, but Qube could instantly tell that he was on the Chosen One’s side.

The blue Ruth, the professor, also looked at the Hero with interest. She gave him a small, tight smile. The colourless Warwick looked vaguely amused.

Brigadier Kennedy continued to observe the slate he’d picked up with a stony expression. If the red Warwick was on their side, then the blue Warwick was very definitely not.

“This is the subject known as the Healer,” Alex continued, gesturing at Qube. She looked between Alex and the Chosen One, hoping for a clue as to how she should proceed. The Chosen One patted the chair next to him.

With an internal sign of relief she sat herself at the table, directly opposite the beings from the Devs’ realm.

“This is the subject known as the Bard,” Alex gestured at Sencha Bard. Never one to lose an opportunity to be polite, Sencha Bard gave the newcomers his most flourishing bow, before gracefully depositing himself in the seat next to Qube.

Major General Coyle leant forward slightly at that, studying the Bard with more interest than she’d given Qube.

“This is the subject known as the Hunter,” Alex continued. His tone had shifted slightly as he gestured at the giant arachnid covered in children’s faces, and Qube suspected that Sexy Screamy Spider Briar was part of the reason that they were being addressed by their job titles, rather than their chosen names.

These did not look like the kind of people who would be interested in calling someone by such a powerfully sensual name. Nor did the party want them to be prejudiced against Definitely Bad Guy, just because he had the word bad in his name.

Sexy Screamy Spider Briar, being far too large for a chair, simply removed the one next to Sencha Bard, and crouched slightly so she was level with everyone else.

Everyone’s eyes had widened as the Hunter took her place at the table, and it became clear just how much larger than the humans she was. A primal fear flickered across the faces of several of them, only to be quickly erased. While the arachnid was certainly an imposing figure, that didn’t seem to be what had grabbed the interest of Professor Dinto. Rather, it was the instant Sexy Screamy Spider Briar moved the chair so she could fit in place that the Professor had leant forward, blatantly staring at the Hunter.

“This is the subject known as the Mage,” Alex’s voice was still slightly subdued, confirming Qube’s suspicion about the name swap.

Definitely Bad Guy, his highly prejudicial name thus concealed, seated himself next to the crouching arachnid.

“And finally, the subject known as the Mascot,” Alex concluded.

The same fear that had been evident on the visitor’s faces flickered briefly again as Squiggles carefully slorp-clanked her way into her chair. Given it wasn’t designed to fit a sharktopus, there was a mild amount of flailing before she settled down. She blinked at the visitors, her blunt face radiating pride at her accomplishment at managing the task all by herself.

None of the visitors were immediately charmed by her adorableness, which was a sign of poor taste on their part.

“Good girl,” Qube whispered from the other side of the table. Squiggles was a delicate baby, and needed lots of encouragement when she did a new thing well!

“Very well, if that is all,” the red Ruth rudely cut off Qube. “Then let the display part of the demonstration begin!”