Bright light assailed Cyrus’s eyes as he found himself able to move once more. It wasn't the familiar brightness of the sunshine he had just been under, nor was it the harshness of indoor fluorescent lighting. This light felt purer, more silvery than yellow, and it was soft and gentle on his eyes, unlike the buzzing, blue-tinged artificial lighting he was used to. Even the dim LED lights he had in his apartment felt harsh comparatively.

  That’s why it didn’t take as long for Cyrus’s eyes to adjust to this softer spectrum of illumination. As they did, his visual surroundings began to clear, revealing where he actually was now.

  He was far from the place he had just been.

  Attempting to remove his VR headset hadn’t worked, which left Cyrus grappling with the reality of his new situation, struggling to reconcile what he saw in front of him with what he knew he should be seeing. The logical part of his brain told him that he should still be in the shared garden space of his apartment complex, but that obviously wasn’t the case.

  He was standing in a large room surrounded on all sides by sleek silver and white walls. The upper half of the walls, including the ceiling, was a pale white with small, unusual designs in soft gray running through it, while the lower half was a dull silver.

  There were no visible seams between the halves that made up the room; in fact, they looked as though the different materials had been created as one large sheet. But that couldn’t be the case either, because interspersed throughout the room were dark, glass-like display panels.

  What made him feel like he had been isekai'd into a video game were these displays. They glowed with strange icons and shapes, not characters he recognized, but reminiscent of the made-up languages of the RPGs he played. The images displayed upon them were unlike any flat images he was accustomed to seeing.

  Cyrus was familiar with many different VR games, TV shows, and movies wherein certain screens could emulate three-dimensional realism and even create holographic images that could be somewhat interacted with. However, the graphical designs he was accustomed to in said media paled in comparison to what he was seeing now. The displays in this room showed images that seemed to have both depth and solidity as they hovered in mid-air, both a part of and separate from the displays.

  As he looked closer, he realized the images were not just floating above the panels but had an actual physical presence that felt almost tangible. The displays somehow not only projected a semi-solid object but also conveyed a sense of mass and volume, as if he could reach out and touch the images, feeling the light as a solid thing. Each image was incredibly detailed and intricate, displaying visual information in ways that far surpassed any technology he had ever encountered before.

  Cyrus’s mind raced to understand how this level of sophistication was even possible. The images seemed to convey a richness and complexity that suggested a level of technological advancement far beyond his imagination.

  “This is incredible,” Cyrus whispered to himself. The displays weren't just showing data; they were presenting it in a way that felt alive and interactive, making the information even more accessible and engaging.

  For a few moments, Cyrus was lost in his amazement and curiosity. His anxiety retreated, the voices in his head silenced, and the fear of what had just happened to him and where he now found himself vanished.

  He reached out gently to touch the strange panel of what he assumed were words floating before him. These unusual glyph-like characters appeared to be more than just flat drawings or computer-generated images. They weren’t the typical font, flat, or even faux 3D with shadows giving them the appearance of depth. Within each glyph were actual separate textures, ridges, and peaks—actual physical buttons made of light which he could reach out and touch.

  But there was more to the strange icons than just their appearance. It seemed to Cyrus as though the letters were designed to be interpreted not only by sight but also by touch. Reading the glyphs might provide an initial impression, but he sensed that only by touching them as well could a more comprehensive meaning be understood.

  He reached out, his arm and fingers seemingly moving of their own accord. His curiosity got the better of him; he needed to experience this alien technology before considering all the ramifications of doing so. But mere seconds before his fingers came into contact with the first of the illuminated glyphs, a hissing sound broke the silence, ripping him from his entrancement.

  Cyrus reflexively turned his head toward the source of the sound, his hand still suspended in mid-air. He watched as a small seam appeared on the wall. A rectangular panel shifted forward into the room where he stood. The door became apparent as it receded a few centimeters into the room, followed swiftly by the entire panel sliding along the inside of the wall to reveal an entryway where none had existed before.

  As the door slid open noiselessly along the wall, Cyrus's anxiety surged back in full force. The reality of him being in a new place, away from his home, far from his sanctuary, pressed in on him like a ton of bricks, making his knees quake and the gas built up in his bowels loose in a loud musical rumbling.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, Cyrus had entertained the idea that he might have been abducted by aliens, even though his rational mind still had a difficult time believing in such things. He wasn’t one to believe in conspiracies, at least not a lot of them, but from what he was now seeing around him, as well as the circumstances leading up to him being here in this place of much greater technology; alien abduction seemed one of the most logical explanations. His brain had been slowly bringing the pieces together, but at the sight of these strange creatures, the puzzle looked as though it had been completed, the pieces fitting together and clicking into place.

  He stared. The room beyond was lit with the same gentle luminosity as this one, and he instantly understood that not only was he no longer alone, but the occupants on the other side of the doorway were decidedly non-human.

  But the creatures standing there, just beyond the doorway, weren’t the skinny gray aliens he expected to see. They didn’t look like how he’d heard lizardmen described either, those being another of the alien races he’d learned of on the internet. They definitely weren’t the Tall-Whites, which he had seen a video of online and were said to run the Earth from the shadows.

  These beings were small, green, and smelled a lot like an uncleaned cat’s litter box, the ammonia quality to the air surrounding them reaching his nostrils and causing tears to form in his eyes. The pungent smell wafted in as soon as the door was fully open.

  Each of the roughly four-foot-tall creatures had long ears that stuck out and away from their heads, maybe three to four inches each. Their dark maroon eyes were disproportionately large on their smallish heads. From the center of each of their faces blossomed an irregular nose, each unique but overly large. Some noses were round and bulbous, while others stuck out several inches before ending in an exaggerated point.

  Their mouths also seemed slightly larger than what should be normal, and from behind their slim, slightly darker green lips, Cyrus could see dozens of sharp, yellowish teeth. Their bodies were skinny, and their clothing, if it could be called that, looked more like ill-fitting potato sacks than anything properly sewn together.

  Yet there was one of these frightful, yet odd, creatures that seemed slightly taller, better dressed, and had a slightly better-proportioned head than the others. This one stared directly at Cyrus, but rather than having the look of being ready to start tearing away at his flesh, like the others looked like they wanted to do, this one looked almost as startled as Cyrus was.

  There was a tense moment where he was frozen in place by the sight before him. He locked eyes with the larger of the creatures and there seemed to be an acknowledgment of mutual stress and misunderstanding between them, but the moment was fleeting.

  Before either of them could acknowledge each other's appearance or confusion, four of the chest-high green critters sprang forward and began clawing at the air before Cyrus.

  He had only a moment before the first of the monsters barreled into him. This initial attacker was larger than the others, but different from the tall one. This one was wide and muscular, as though it enjoyed throwing boulders for entertainment, its arms and chest chiseled like those of a bodybuilder, but with a gut that brought to life the phrase “beer belly.”

  The large creature lowered its head and aimed to plow itself directly into Cyrus. Since the creature’s head only reached about waist height at its current angle of charge, it barreled directly into his most sensitive area, causing Cyrus to double over from the blow.

  Along with the creature’s bald, hard head impacting his crotch, two stubby yet strong arms wrapped around his midsection, lifting him off the floor and carrying his entire body several steps backward into the wall behind him. The remaining oxygen in his lungs was immediately expelled due to the impact.

  Two more small green creatures lunged forward, following closely behind the thick one. They pounced on top of Cyrus’s now prone form, joining the initial combatant with what could only be described as a sense of wanton glee.

  Their dirty, jagged claws ripped into his skin, their teeth tore into his arms and ankles, and the larger one had the gall to bite down on the flabby skin hanging over his beltline. A couple of inches lower, and Cyrus would have been singing a very different tune.

  As it was, he cried out in pain and tried to curl his body into a ball, his mind instantly shutting down. In his state of shock, his senses failed him, and his fight-or-flight response devolved past the lizard brain stage of thinking and straight into the pill-bug state of mind.

  He curled in upon himself, sobbing from the torture to his body, and resignedly hoped that his end would come swiftly.

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  The room seemed to grow small, the light dimmed, and while he felt the pain immensely, it slowly grew numb and seemed less than what it should have been. Cyrus also noticed that he was losing his hearing perception and could barely make out the grunts and growls coming from the creatures attacking him. The sounds they made were both animalistic yet slightly discernible as a possible language.

  His world was closing in, unconsciousness beckoning to him, and he was about to give in to the comfort of oblivion when the attacking creatures reluctantly withdrew.

  But before he blacked out completely, the attackers slowly backed off. He was left wounded and weak, lying curled in a pool of his own blood, but alive. Cyrus had just enough awareness left to see the slightly taller of the green-skinned creatures, the one he now believed was their leader, walk up close and stare down into his eyes.

  There was an intellect there that he could see. He, unlike the ones who had attacked, had the ability to reason and lead. His suspicions were confirmed, but that did little to appease him now. Cyrus briefly wondered if this thing was taking his measure, or simply sizing up his next meal.

  The Hopeful Voice and the Despairing Voice, silenced earlier by the pain and shock, returned. The Hopeful Voice chimed in first, its tone wavering between hope and uncertainty. 'They stopped... maybe the big one wants to communicate, to learn more about you. This might not be the end.'

  Then the Despairing Voice chuckled darkly, its voice dripping with cynicism. 'Naw… They just want to savor their meal. You're like a lobster, kept alive until they throw you into a pot of boiling water.'

  In the end he couldn’t tell for certain. He hoped this creature was benevolent and his minions had acted on instinct, that their leader would see the benefit of coordination. But as he tried to focus and look back up into those strange dark eyes, he felt his own eyes roll back into his head. Then, he passed out, no longer able to deal with the mental stress of the situation.

  “Raknak, Prayda, Gooniz, back off!” Daegnon yelled as the three of them lunged forward and attacked this strange-looking human. The smallest of them, Khibi, who always accompanied Raknak, also lunged menacingly, but stepped to the side, watching as the other three tore into the human. With the command, he backed away as well, quickly taking his place behind the largest Goblin’s back, as usual.

  The floating light images on the dark panels of the ship had led him here using arrows drawn upon the dark glass in a radiant yellow. The rest of his ‘gang,’ for lack of a better term, had followed behind him, not knowing what else to do but instinctively following the orders given by the burrow-master.

  The arrows had changed once they stood in this barren hallway in front of an ordinary-looking wall. They had passed by here before, but the hallway had held nothing of interest, so it had been thought of as just another hallway. But this time, the arrow pointed down instead of forward, and a small panel opened up revealing a button.

  This button was similar to the one that opened the door to the room with the throne, but with only the circular hole this time, so Daegnon didn’t hesitate to push it, assuming the ship, or whoever was guiding him, wanted him to do just that.

  Daegnon pressed his finger in the hole, and just like before felt a springiness within. As the mechanism activated, the door revealed itself, hissing as it slowly opened.

  He and the others had been exploring this ship now for over a day. It had taken them several hours to realize, at least to some degree, what exactly had happened. They were obviously no longer in their mountain and were now surrounded by stars with no land or water in sight. They had to assume they were now somehow in space. The entire concept was foreign to them but explainable by Glix.

  Daegnon had an inkling about how this had happened, but he firmly kept that information from the others. If he were to maintain his position as burrow-master, he needed the others to trust that he was not the one who had accidentally put them in this situation.

  It had been the ultimate goal of his, and the clan members still following him, to explore what lay beyond their mountain with this ship. When his ancestors had realized what exactly it was they had found, the need to escape and explore had been passed down from father to son, as was the key he still had in his pocket.

  So, in a way, he had simply moved the plan forward as he had always hoped he’d be able to, although leaving without the majority of his people was definitely not the way he would have gone about it had he had the option.

  Goblins weren’t much for technological things, but they weren’t totally ignorant either. They had heard stories about the other races and how they held differing factions. Some were more mystical, which their tribe favored to some degree, while other factions were far more technologically advanced and sailed the skies as well as the stars. The latter were called Sky Goblins, and it was their ranks he had been hoping to join.

  It was said that some races even lived in the stars, spending their entire lives away from the planet to which they initially belonged. That was difficult to understand, especially since their clan didn’t really venture far from the mountain in which they resided. But it was to eventually roam the stars that some of the clan members had looked forward to doing once the ship was fully excavated.

  “Starfang no did bring dis guy here for be food, dummies. Don’t kill human. He gotta be needed for something,” Daegnon explained as he pushed the three attacking Goblins away from the body.

  Daegnon had watched as the human’s eyes rolled back into his head and his body went completely limp. He wanted to speak to this person but feared he wouldn’t understand him even if he tried. The fear and confusion in the human’s eyes were evident as he passed out, and Daegnon understood that his cronies had just inflicted some serious trauma on the human, even though the physical damage didn’t look too extreme.

  He hadn’t had much experience with other races himself, but he had been taught about them by his father and the Elf who birthed him. He knew basically what a human should look like, so he could tell that this was one of them. However, from the descriptions he had heard, they were supposed to be thick and lean, not fat and soft. That fact made him second-guess his initial supposition.

  This human also had strange clothing covering it. Goblins knew what armor was, as that was a large part of what they hoped to find while digging in their cavern, but the clothing worn by this person was anything but armor-like.

  The bottom half of him was covered in a strange, slippery-looking black material that left his lower legs exposed. It was shiny and reflected a small amount of light from white stripes running down the sides. There were also shoes on its feet, but they weren’t the typical leather boots that he had been told humans wore. These were multicolored, short, and made of materials Daegnon had never encountered before.

  Perhaps the most unusual piece of clothing this human wore was on its torso. The material was soft, similar to, but different from, the bottom half. It was also a shade of blue that Daegnon had never even imagined before.

  On the human’s tunic was an unknown script as well as an image of a mushroom-shaped monster being chased by a strange humanoid creature with a red hat and a large moustache below its prominent nose.

  Daegnon studied the human further, taking advantage of its unconscious state. The human had dark brown hair, cut short but extremely curly. It stuck out at strange angles, almost as if it had dried after being wet and without being combed. Its face was smooth with round cheeks and a small, undignified nose, at least in comparison to a Goblin sniffer.

  “What we do with it then?” Raknak asked. He was by far the most aggressive of the five other Goblins on board when the ship left. His heritage was supposedly handed down from an Ogress, though that part of his family had died several generations ago. From his stature, it seemed he had inherited some of the large monster’s strength anyway.

  “Not know,” Daegnon answered truthfully.

  He turned to the rest of his Goblins, acknowledging them but also seeking insight. First, he focused on Khibi. This young and scrawny whelp acted like Raknak’s younger brother despite no shared ancestry. Khibi followed the larger Goblin around and mimicked whatever Raknak did. While muscular Goblins were typically less intelligent, but of the two, Raknak had both the brain and brawn.

  He knew he would get no answers from the small Goblin. He couldn’t ever remember hearing Khibi talk, and wondered if he were actually mute.

  Next was Gooniz, he was generally a grumpy Goblin with a semi-prominent nose and ragged ears. He was his own Goblin but also a reluctant follower. Gooniz had been leading Raknak and Khibi around the ship, searching for parts they could steal and sell. Yet Daegnon knew he was just taking orders from someone else; a Goblin that Gooniz wouldn’t, or possibly couldn’t, name. Some hexes bound the tongue, which would keep the Goblin from speaking the name.

  It was due to those three scavenging on the ship that they were now part of the 'gang' Daegnon had here. They had technically been part of the faction wanting to dismantle the ship for profit, but following that agenda had landed them here and away from the rest of the clan. Now their only options were to follow Daegnon or start a coup. Wisely, they had chosen to follow, since none of them had any idea how to lead a group properly.

  Prayda was the next member of his crew that he turned to. Prayda would be considered a rogue by adventurer's terms. He was sneaky and had no problem sticking a knife in a person’s back. He had an extremely sharp sniffer and ears to match. His entire form felt sharp. His most useful trait was that he had a silver tongue and could convince almost any person to do whatever he wanted. This quality came in handy when dealing with other races, and he frequently accompanied caravans to the surface when the clan attempted to trade.

  He wouldn’t tell Daegnon why exactly he was onboard, but the burrow-master suspected Prayda was scoping out potential profitable ventures. His intentions seemed similar to those of Gooniz and the others, but perhaps he was working alone.

  Glix was the only one who wasn’t here for personal gain. She was fascinated by the ship, far beyond any other Goblin. Her mind delved deeper into curiosity and exploration than any Daegnon knew. She wanted to know how the ship worked far more than she cared about any profit or power to be gained from it.

  She was also the only female among them, which meant, whether she knew it or not, that she would be the object of the others’ affections rather soon; something she probably wouldn’t appreciate if what Daegnon had heard about her was true.

  As Glix fully entered the room and stared down at the strangely attired human on the floor, Daegnon noticed the door they had entered through sliding closed. At first, he paid the event no mind, but then a small sense of danger triggered within him. The others were poking and nudging the human, but Daegnon moved back to where the panel had silently shut, feeling along the walls for any cracks, buttons, or seams, but found none.

  Before he could turn back around, the light in the room flickered, then shifted from its silvery white to a chilling blue. It wasn't the pleasant blue of the sky or ocean, but a colder, more unnatural shade.

  As the color changed, panels in the ceiling slid open, and a strange, gray mist began pouring out, swirling down towards the floor like spectral tendrils searching for prey.

  The Goblins, startled, began to panic. Whines and uneasy growls filled the air as they shifted about, their movements became clumsy and their minds slowed with fear.

  They felt along the walls, some dropping to their hands and knees as they all searched for a way out, bumping into one another in their confusion. Daegnon, despite a knot of unease tightening in his own stomach, tried to shout orders, to gather them. But his gang was scattered, scared, and beyond reasoning; their fear rising as the swirling mist swiftly covered the floor.

  The mist spread quickly, filling the room with a hazy fog. Visibility dropped to near zero, each Goblin lost in the gray expanse. They were reduced to being able to see little more than the end of their own noses through the density of the fog.

  The charcoal colored gas was thick and heavy, making each breath a little harder than the last.

  Within moments, the Goblins began to stumble, their movements sluggish. Their anxious cries turned to coughs and wheezes as unconsciousness began to claim them. One by one, they fell, sprawling on the silvery floor, breathing but unconscious.

  The chaotic energy of the room dissipated, replaced by an unsettling stillness, broken only by the soft hiss of the still descending mist.