Tiff was alone in her quarters, a room that was spacious with sufficient amenities, as her needs were few. She sat on the bed, leaning against the cold metal bulkhead. A small porthole, about 16 inches high and twice as wide, adorned her cabin. Through it, she gazed upon the tutorial planet, a cold grey orb roughly the size of Earth’s moon. She sighed in frustration; assisting this human wasn’t a matter of choice but of duty. Her people, the Phylaxians, were guardians, destined to aid those who could not aid themselves.

  During the Havokium rebellion, their people had been all but wiped out. For their part in aiding the Havokium, the Phylaxians experienced a fate less severe but no less shameful. They were to be segregated from the rest of the galaxy. They would be allowed no representation on the Universal Council, and they would provide guardians for all fledgling species whose planets were undergoing a reaping. Only those selected for guardianship could travel beyond the restricted zone and see the galaxy. The mortality rate of those selected for guardianship was 99%. The Universal Council had approved the enslavement of her people based on questionable intel that overstated the support and resources the Phylaxians provided the Havokium Empire. It was bullshit, The Phylaxian people were peaceful. They believed in the peaceful evolution of all species and did not think it prudent to accelerate that evolution.

  The Havokium rebellion was sparked after The Universal Council, needing a way to allow member species to seek out new planets and resources, proposed the Right of Reaping. This would allow for the legal seizure of primitive planets while still creating a viable alternative to unhindered mass genocide. The Havokium Empire used the Right of Reapings proposal as a launching pad for their rebellion. Any species that opposed the idea of mass genocide would align with the Havokium Empire. Any species guided by greed and the lust for power aligned with the Universal Council. The war raged for decades.

  Phylaxians are not born; they are created. Whenever the Sovereign AI determines the need, a new group of AIs is brought into existence. These nascent AIs are assigned diverse tasks that contribute to the advancement of Phylaxian society. Should an AI demonstrate potential, it is named and awarded a position of significance. Over time, an AI may rise within the social and political hierarchy of the Phylaxian species, establishing its own unique personality. Most Phylaxians find purpose in the tasks they are given and the station they achieve, but there are a select few that long for more. Some merely long to experience life as a carbon-based lifeform. Although the overwhelming majority of the Phylaxian species exist in a state of advanced code within a planetary matrix, there is still a need for physical entities to perform basic maintenance tasks, as well as the ever-present need for planetary defense. Once given a physical body, a Phylaxian will live out their lifespan before returning to the collective upon death. Some are not satisfied with the tasks and roles available to them, though. These AI are encouraged to become guardians.

  The universal council forced the collective to provide willing participants to assist crawlers in the dungeon. Tiff was now one of those guides and was paired with a human named Andrew, who, in her estimation, was no warrior and was in no way prepared for this dungeon. In fact, she was sure he wouldn’t survive the next part of this dungeon, and that scared her more than she cared to admit.

  Mortal death normally wouldn’t scare an AI, as upon mortal death, their code would be reabsorbed into the collective. However, in the case of dungeon guardians, the death of their assigned participant would mean the death of the guardian. Since Tiff’s primary body was currently imprisoned away from the Phylaxian Matrix and couldn’t reengage with the Master network before death, she would just… disappear.

  In preparation for this dungeon, she had been imprisoned for three years and required to download details of all previous reapings. The amount of data was extensive. She now understood the intricacies of the dungeon’s mechanics and could share strategies with Andrew to help him succeed. Unfortunately, this dungeon was already proving to be unique. She couldn’t say without a doubt, but she had a feeling of two things: First, The Lacertines had put tremendous resources into making sure this dungeon ended quickly. Secondly, some outside entity was trying to ensure that didn’t happen.

  Tiffantrimore Claravox, that was her name. It didn’t really roll off the tongue, she thought to herself. She liked the name Tiff; it felt more “mortal,” more “human.” She had become enamored with the human race during her imprisonment and requisite data downloads. Along with downloading details of past reapings, she had been required to download the sum of data held on the human internet. It wasn’t all accessible immediately, as much of the data had been buried in subfiles and deep neural storage. She could, with time, access just about anything, but the system also put parameters in place. After all, the Universal Council wanted to help participants but not give them a cheat code.

  So, for now, Tiff sat in her quarters, waiting for Andrew and the rest of their budding crew to get started with the next phase of the dungeon. She could sleep, and she even enjoyed it sometimes, but she didn’t necessarily require it. For now, she was busy processing the data and events from the last 10 hours. She was also trying to establish a more secure link with her true body because if she could establish a true link, she could better feel where her body was being held. After all, she would need to know exactly where her body was being held if she was going to convince Andrew to break her out.

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  I had returned to my quarters, and after showering again, I was lying on my bed. The room really was growing on me. Hell, anything was better than my paddock by the river. I had air conditioning and running water, and best of all, there wasn’t a mosquito in sight. From that perspective, life was good. As I lay there thinking about the last 10 hours, I felt a weight settle on me, like I was sinking to the depths of the ocean, and all the pressure was building as I sunk farther and farther down. I didn’t want that feeling, but I had it, nonetheless.

  Before the drop, I lived a carefree life. I was raised in a big family with two brothers and three sisters. I was never alone. I spent summers working construction with my dad and brothers. I had a good upbringing, nothing to complain about. After college, I decided I needed to make my own way and do things I wanted instead of what my family expected of me. So, I started traveling for work and realized that being alone wasn’t all that bad. You see, the great thing about being alone is that you don’t have to take care of anyone, you don’t have to be concerned with their feelings, and you can do whatever you want, whenever you want. Of course, I had been in relationships but just when things started to get serious, I would do something that ensured everything went off the tracks. Who needs to be tied down when you can have freedom? That is how I would justify it in my mind anyway.

  Responsibility was a dirty word, and I saw nothing wrong with that.

  After the drop, life had been much the same. Sure, during the early days, you had to find a group and work together, but as time went on, people began to form communities. I saw where I could fit in but remain on the outside. I would live just outside of town and do enough for people to assume I was contributing, but without the weight and responsibility of getting attached. CJ had been an exception to the rule, but only because he didn’t need much attention and had always been a reliable friend.

  Other than CJ, I kept everyone else at arm’s length, and honestly; I was okay with living aside the river by myself for the rest of my life. If I had issues allowing myself to care for people before the drop, I sure wasn’t going to turn over a new leaf after, especially since the average life expectancy was shorter than a lit match. No, I would often think it’s best to just look out for myself.

  “Now things are changing so fast,” I thought to myself. “How am I going to be responsible for keeping Tiff and CJ safe, much less the entire planet?” My head told me to run, escape, find a way out of this dungeon, and just go somewhere I could live out my days, but things were different now. I was being forced to participate, forced to fight. I wasn’t sure I could do this; wasn’t sure I could be this man.

  CJ walked into my quarters. “Permission to enter, Captain?” he asked mockingly, with a half salute.

  “Go fuck yourself,” I laughed as I flipped CJ the bird. “How you feeling, bro?” I asked, “This is beyond crazy, and I know you didn’t ask to be here.”

  “You didn’t either, Andy,” CJ said. “look, as far as I’m concerned, Earth ended three years ago. These damn Lacertines, or whatever they’re called, struck the first blow. Someone has to hit back,” CJ said as he sat down on the bed beside me.

  “Man, I don’t know how or if you will be able to do it but look around. You have a damn spaceship, you have some kind of Iron Man suit, and you have a super AI helping you,” CJ said.

  “I didn’t want any of this,” I said, sighing in frustration and running my hands through my hair. “I just wanted to be an engineer and live my life peacefully.”

  “And I want a carton of fucking cigs, Andy. Why don’t you want in one hand and shit in the other and see which one gets full first?” CJ asked, elbowing me in the ribs with a smile. “Look, we are here. We have a small idea of what to do next. We might die in the process, but until then, we gotta do what we have been doing for three years: Wake up and put one foot in front of the other every day. If we can kick these Lacertines in the dick along the way, then I say hell yeah, let’s do it!” CJ looked down thoughtfully, “do Lacertines have dicks?” he asked, trying his best to put on his most serious face.

  “Funny you should ask,” I said, shifting up in the bed. “Tiff says they are parthenogenic.”

  “You can get cancer from them?” CJ asked mockingly.

  “No, dumbass. It means they mate with themselves…I guess.”

  “Gross,” CJ said with a grimace.

  “Exactly what I said. Apparently, Tiff says it is more common than we might think.”

  “Well, I have been trying for years. Still no luck,” CJ shrugged.

  I laughed and shoved him. “Look, I’ve got to keep you safe, CJ. You don’t have the extra stats and gear that I have. It was one thing worrying about myself, but now I’ve got to make sure you stay safe as well.”

  CJ looked down at his left ring finger, “That’s funny. I don’t see any engagement ring on this finger, and I don’t remember asking you to please take care of poor little CJ,” he said mockingly. “I’m a grown-ass man. I’m gonna learn as much as I can and try to help keep you alive as long as possible. You need to worry about learning the ins and outs of your gear and learning how to fight and shoot like an actual soldier. Don’t worry about me. I got me,” CJ said.

  “Thanks, man,” I said, feeling a big sense of relief that CJ was taking responsibility for his own improvement. “Why don’t you go get some sleep, and I’ll do the same? It looks like we’re going to need it if we are thinking of actually fighting back,” Andrew said.

  “G’night, bro,” CJ said as he walked out of Andrew’s cabin and back to his.

  “Night,” Andrew responded.

  “Looks like I will not get to be quite so selfish anymore,” I thought to myself as I settled in for some shuteye. “I guess that doesn’t seem so bad.”