“You’ll be our new Head of Fantasy Division,” said the assistant as she led me down the long, gray corridor.
“What happened to the old head?” I asked.
“Answering that will be one of your first tasks,” she replied.
I released a chuckle, despite the fact her face betrayed no humor. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I wondered while we marched into the bowels of Supra Headquarters.
I did not begin my day thinking I’d wind up starting a new job. When I awoke to a curt email from my boss informing me that my old job at Marketing R Us had been downsized, I foresaw cheap pizza, cheaper liquor, and an anime marathon in my immediate future.
Instead, after frantically shooting off several dozen inquiries, I actually received one message back.
“Supra Corporation invites you to work at our headquarters in downtown Regal Falls!” read the subject line.
Supra Corporation? I’d never heard of the company, which was strange, considering how small of a town Regal Falls was. Our little burg was not the sort of place where one expected to find a corporate headquarters. Little bookstores, coffee shops, Mom and Pop operations were more our speed.
Nevertheless, when I showed up an hour later, showered and dressed with resumes in hand, sure enough there stood an office building at the address listed.
When I stepped inside, I expected to find a half-dozen other applicants waiting for their interview, but instead it was just the assistant seated at the front desk. “I’m the assistant,” she greeted stiffly.
Just like that. No name. Only “the assistant.”
“You must be Jonny,” she continued. “Right this way.”
And like that, I was headed deeper into Supra HQ.
“What exactly is Fantasy Division?” I asked. “And what exactly do you do here?” The limited research I was able to conduct before leaving my apartment failed to reveal the nature of their business. They had a landing page that had black text on a white background reading cryptically, “Supra Corporation: System Solutions for Out of Control Worlds.”
I puzzled at it only a few minutes before I dove into the bathroom to get ready. I didn’t want to be late for…whatever the hell job this was. Beggars can’t be choosers was my rationale. I lived paycheck to paycheck, and with rent right around the corner, I couldn’t afford to be picky.
A job was a job.
“Oh, and what exactly would be my responsibilities as, uh, Head of Fantasy Division?”
The assistant paused before one of the many off-white doors and laid a hand on its silver handle. “Put on the headphones.”
I lifted my eyebrows as if to say, “Come again?” But she merely opened the door in reply.
Within, a small room with a curved desk in one corner with stacks of monitors piled on top. They presently shone with a series of what looked to be elaborate screensavers. One showed a snowy mountain range, another some quaint village with thatch-roofed homes. They were the only light source in the room, filling it with a shifting, electric glow.
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“Is someone going to be conducting the interview over Zoom?” I asked.
“Have a seat, please.”
I got the sudden feeling I was in way over my head. It felt a little like a dream, which at any point could shift suddenly into a terrible nightmare. Nevertheless, a combination of curiosity and poverty compelled me to obey, drawing out the wheeled office chair and plopping down before the L-shaped desk.
The assistant retrieved some paperwork from a metal filing cabinet occupying the shadowed corner of the windowless room, then slapped it on the desk before me. “Your contract,” she said.
“Uh, I’m not like signing away my life to Supra Corporation, am I?” I joked.
Her expression did not shift in the least. She plucked a ballpoint pen from her pocket and laid it on the page. “Boilerplate indemnification and liability waiver.”
“Liability waiver?” I echoed, my voice a little tremulous.
The assistant bent forward, leveling her crystalline blue eyes on me. She was pretty, I realized, a fact which her severe manner obfuscated. Petite, with a platinum blonde ponytail, alluring curves, perfect, pale skin. Totally out of my league, and probably completely disinterested in a green-haired, unemployed twenty-one year old. Well, at least I had a job again. Or so it seemed. I wouldn’t be signing a contract if I wasn’t hired, right?
“This is a dangerous job,” she replied. It was the first thing she said that felt off-script. As such, I listened intently, leaning closer. “You might not survive it, frankly. But you fit the profile for it and we’re in dire need, so there’s no point in wasting time with interviews and tutorials. You need a job, the position’s title and everything you’ve experienced since you walked through our door has undeniably piqued your interest, and I’m willing to bet you’d do anything right now to lift the mystery. Am I right?” Her nearly-white eyebrows lifted.
“Yeah,” I replied.
She flicked her eyes to the contract and the pen resting atop it, a tacit demand for my signature. I picked up the pen and without reading a word of the legalese, signed on the line.
The slightest hint of a smirk curled the end of her mouth. “Good,” she said. “Now, put on the headphones.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
An innocuous looking pair of over-ear headphones rested on the desk. They were black with a microphone and golden-yellow circles on the cups. I picked them up and settled them over my ears.
As I turned to watch the assistant exit the room, shutting the door closed behind her, a sound like a drone buzzed in the headphones. It grew louder and louder, grating on my ears. Right before I was about to rip the headphones off my head, the sound cut out, replaced by a voice.
“Greetings, new Overseer!” It was cheery, bordering on sarcastic. “What’s your name?”
“Uh, Jonny?” I replied.
“Greetings, Uh Jonny!”
“No,” I corrected, “just Jonny. No ‘uh.’”
“Then why didn’t you say just Jonny!”
“It’s called a stammer,” grumbled.
“Great! Do less of that! I’m your Guide, but you can call me Guy for short.”
“Nice to meet you, Guy,” I said. “Are you, like, a remote employee or something?”
“Not in the least!” Guy answered. “I’m your headphones!”
Without thought, I raised my hands to the headphones as if touching them would expose them as something other than headphones. But they still just felt like ordinary, plastic headphones with synthetic leather cups.
As I dragged my fingers over the outside of the cups, Guy said, “Don’t do that!”
“Why, does it tickle?” I snickered.
“The button in the center will transport you into another world, but there are some basics we need to cover before you do that,” Guy informed me.
“Another world?” I repeated.
“Did I stutter!”
“What world?” I asked.
“Look at the screens in front of you,” said Guy. “From top left, they’re Aquineros, Elerind, Gaasgard, Bliptipirooni, and Wee.”
“Wee?” I said. “Like, Wee!” As I said this, I was idly tracing the right cup of the headphones. My index accidentally depressed the central button.
And then light from the bottom right screen exploded into the room.