Chapter Text
Aloy crossed her arms over her chest as she stepped into the elevator that the receptionist had pointed her to. She thought about the offer she'd received a week ago with the Sylens Publishing Company letterhead. It had been rather vague, not even mentioning the story she'd submitted by name. And to be honest, she'd submitted so many books to publishers recently, she couldn't even remember which book she'd sent to who.
A hand jutted out between the doors, stopping them and sending them in reverse to slide back into their housings in the wall.
A man stepped in, half a head taller than her, with dark hair pulled back into a tail and shaved on the sides. His black motorcycle jacket had the left sleeve pinned up nearly to the shoulder.
She nodded in greeting to fullfil the socially appropriate amount of acknowledgement and settled back against the bar that jutted out from the back wall of the elevator.
"Did you receive a letter as well?" He asked as the number on the wall rolled over just over halfway to their destination.
"Hm? Yeah."
"It's just odd. Because I didn't submit a book to Sylens for publishing as far as I'm aware." He mused.
That gave Aloy pause. Had she submitted one of her books here?
Further exploration of that line of questions was halted as the elevator gave a loud ding of arrival and the doors slid apart.
The hyper clean hallway that they entered into was filled with a small group of others who looked like they felt out of place. Some of them were chatting excitedly while others mumbled and looked around with wild and curious eyes. A huge screen displayed a bald man with cold, calculating eyes and umber skin greeted them with an obvious facsimile of a smile.
"Hello. My name is Sylens, founder and owner of Sylens Publishing. For years, we have been attempting to push the boundaries of the written word. To bring stories that will speak to the hearts of people to life. Imagination is, after all, one of life's greatest treasures and keys."
"This way please." A tech in a white lab coat called.
The group was split and shuffled off into changing rooms and each of them given a white jumpsuit that clung and hung loose in all the wrong places.
Then they were brought to a large room centered around a huge machine that reminded Aloy vaguely of some sort of particle collider or if she were feeling fanciful, a time machine or something.
The man from the screen stood in front of them, the fake smile still firmly in place. "Fellow writers, thank you for coming today. Twenty years ago, as I sat down at my computer, I asked myself a question. What if writing could be more? Why simply write, when instead you could perhaps touch it, feel it, live it?" He paused and the dramaticism made Aloy roll her eyes. "So I have dedicated those twenty years to making this machine. Through it, each of you will experience a unique simulation of your stories. We will record all of it and then package and publish. This is the next chapter of how stories are made. Thank you for joining me for it."
Aloy's eyes narrowed. That was a very pretty picture. Too pretty. Too clean. The man from the elevator scoffed next to her and she gave him a sideways glance. The twist to his mouth told her he was somewhere on the same wavelength as her. He knew that speech was a tiny nugget of truth buried under a big old pile of bull.
"Are you all ready?" Sylens asked.
Some answered with an enthusiastic 'yes', others hummed out more non committal noises while Aloy and the elevator man just stayed silent.
"Activate the suits."
Cabling on the suits lit up down the line, alternating between the just a few shades off neon green on Aloy's and a perfect royal blue on elevator man's.
She should probably get his actual name at some point instead of continuing to call him elevator man. That was probably rude.
"Now if you all would step onto the platform that has been assigned to you and within moments, you can begin exploring your stories."
The group walked cautiously up the steps and followed the directions of the two tech assistants each to a round platform.
"Now we can unleash your full creative potential." Sylens announced as Aloy set a hesitant step onto her platform. He waved at the tech assistant on his left who began typing some sort of input into the tablet he was holding. "Get it started."
The machine in the middle of the room hummed and whirred as it came alive, mechanisms beginning to spin.
Across the room, Aloy saw as the particularly exuberant young woman, who'd oohed and aahed at everything was encapsulated in a bubble and swept off her feet to float prone in the midst of it. One by one around the circle of platforms, the bubbles appeared and the other writers were left suspended.
Before theirs could activate, elevator guy and Aloy stepped off their platforms.
"Yeah. Not doing that." Aloy said crossing her arms over her chest.
The man grunted in agreement.
"Sir. Ma'am. You have to get back on your platforms." The tech said.
"No. I'm not doing this." Aloy said.
"We can hardly stop now, on the precipice of something so great. Besides, the system cannot be shut down now." Sylens said, coming back around the bank of consoles he'd sequestered himself behind. "Step back onto your platforms if you would, so we may proceed."
"No." Elevator man grit out, his voice firm with finality.
Sylens waved for the security guards that were standing in the corner. "I assure you, this is perfectly safe. Now get back on the platform."
The guards managed to flank elevator man and corral him onto his platform. The second both feet landed on it, the bubble appeared and he was swept up.
Aloy, used to scrappy fights and being outnumbered by bigger opponents was making a much bigger problem for the guards. One of them had her by the waist and was about to toss her back onto her platform when a well placed kick shifted the momentum enough that instead of stumbling left onto her platform, she went right.
Straight into elevator man's bubble.